A Long Strange Journey
by weezerz2490
Summary: This is the story of a young English girl named Hannah, a survivor of the London Blitz, and her adventures in Middle-Earth.
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: This is a prequel/companion piece that may later tie into my LOTR fic _One Geek to Rule Them All_, but it's entirely up to you whether you want to read it or not. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please let me know what you think.

I don't own anything but my OC.

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**Chapter 1: Prologue**

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In war-torn London, on October 23, 1940, a young girl was walking home from school with her younger brother in hand. The Blitz had been going on for a over a month now, and the streets of their once fair city were lined with rubble and debris. No matter how much they tried to sort it out and clear it away, there was always more of it, and there always would be so long as the Germans continued to drop their bombs. People died. People lost their homes. But still the citizens of London continued to go about their daily lives, determined to keep a stiff upper lip, in true British fashion; and to keep calm and carry on to the best of their abilities. And the children followed the example of the adults.  
Which was why, despite all of the horrific destruction around them and the constant threat of more bombs hovering over their heads, Hannah and Jonathan Hayes strolled through the streets of their besieged city with their heads held high. As they walked, Jonathan played with a stick he had found, while Hannah hummed the tune of _Raisins and Almonds_. The soft and sweet melody was pierced by the sudden scream of the air-raid siren.

"Come, Jonathan!" Hannah said urgently, tightening her grip on her younger brother's hand as she made a beeline to the nearest shelter, which happened to be the Underground a block away.

Their pace quickened to a desperate run when a large shadow passed over them, and they realized the planes were already over their neighborhood. They had were only steps away from the top threshold of the stairs leading down into the station when Hannah became aware of something moving vertically out the corner of her eye only a hundred yards further down the street. In the next five seconds before the bomb hit, Hannah used all of her strength to yank her brother in front of her and push him with enough force to send him flying down into the arms of the station manager standing at the bottom of the stairs; and not a moment too soon. She squeezed her eyes shut as the blast hit her. A wave of heat rolled over Hannah so intense that she thought the flesh would melt right off her bones as she was hurled violently through the air. The pain was so immense her mind couldn't process it, and she realized she could hear herself screaming as her body began to go into shock. Her eyes were opened. She stared upward as the stars wheeled overhead, even though the sky had just been bright with daylight a moment ago. Her limbs were heavy, and she couldn't bring herself to move them; there was a strange absence of pain. She didn't know how long she lay there gazing at the heavens, but a strange sensation of loss and loneliness slowly began to well up within her, pushing its way to the surface to escape in the form of tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. Did Jonathan make it? Was he going to be all right? Was _she_ all right? What happened? Was she dead? Paralyzed?

"Well, this is most peculiar!" Exclaimed a nervous voice. Hannah could hear and smell the soft crunch of fragrant grass beneath feet and realized she was lying on a patch of it. "I wondered what it was when I saw that huge burst of flame, but it appears to be a girl!"

"Yes, It would appear so." Said another, deeper voice as the faces of two old men appeared in her field of vision, hovering over her. The one in the brown hat had a kind but funny-looking face, and what appeared to be bird droppings in his grey hair; and the one in the blue-grey hat had a long face with sharp eyes, bushy brows, and noticeable lack of fecal matter anywhere on his person.

"And one with violet eyes at that! I've never seen the like before." Remarked the old man in the brown hat curiously.

"Yes, she also appears to be in some kind of trance," said the old man in the grey hat, "or perhaps she's simply stunned? Can you move?" he asked her. Hannah found that she couldn't even blink.

"Oh, dear. She seems to be in a rather bad way, don't you think, Gandalf?" The old man in the brown hat asked his friend, concerned. "What should we do?"

"Let me see…" The man in the grey hat, Gandalf, said. He reached out and laid his hand on her head and closed his eyes as he spoke in low voice, whispering words beyond Hannah's understanding. The heavy numbness suddenly left her limbs, and Hannah found that she could move again.

"What… What happened?" She asked nervously as she looked around and realized she was in the middle of field.

"We were hoping you could tell us." Answered the old man in the brown hat. They had been discussing the growing sense of unease they felt about the ominous shadow that had begun to stretch over the land, when a cloud of flames suddenly burst into bloom off in the distance, and they found this young girl with unusual eyes in its place. "How did you make those flames?"

"I-I didn't make them, it was the bomb—the bomb! That's right!" She cried, bolting upright to search herself for wounds. There was nothing. Not even a single first-degree burn. "That can't be… I was standing right next to it when it went off. How am I still…?" Her eyes widened in shock. "Am I dead? Is this Heaven?" She asked.

"Heaven? How can you be in the sky when you're sitting on the ground? And what is a 'bomb'?" The man in the brown hat asked, furrowing his brow in confusion.

"Huh?" She said, mirroring his expression, as she tilted her head to side and stared at him in bewilderment. It would seem she wasn't in Heaven after all. She hoped that didn't mean she was in Hell. She couldn't remember having done anything bad enough to deserve ending up there. "I'm taking about the Kingdom of God, not the sky. And how can you not know what a bomb is? There's a war going on, you know!" At this the two men visibly started and stared at her in astonishment.

"Who is this God? I've never heard of a king by that name, have you?" The man in the brown hat asked his friend.

"At the moment, I am much more concerned about this war she just mentioned. Aren't you, Radagast?" Answered Gandalf. "Ah, that's right! We have yet to introduce ourselves. I am known as Gandalf, Gandalf the Grey. And this is Radagast the Brown." He said, formerly introducing themselves to her. "And what is your name?"

"My name is Hannah Hayes. How do you do?" She responded politely with a nod, remembering her manners, though she was still thoroughly bemused by all that had transpired since the bomb went off.

"Very well, thank you, Hannah." Replied Radagast with a smile. He had never heard that name before, but it had a nice ring to it. "But Gandalf is right, you must tell us more about this war you speak of. Has it anything to do with the Necromancer?"

"Radagast!" said Gandalf sternly. Radagast was a kind soul, but he had no talent for subterfuge. They did not yet know how much this girl knew, and while she looked harmless enough, appearing in balls of fire was not something normal girls should be able to do. For despite her unusual eye-color and strange attire, she was clearly mortal, and of the race of Men. She should not be capable of using the kind of powerful magic they had sensed when she appeared.

"What on earth are you talking about?" Hannah asked, looking more lost than ever.

"… What are you talking about?" Radagast countered as the two wizards stared expectantly at her.

After much discussion and quite a few corrected miscommunications, Hannah and the two wizards seemed to have finally reached an understanding, although each side felt the other's story was just as incredible and unbelievably fantastic as the other's. For one thing, Hannah couldn't believe they were really wizards, and that she was now in land called Middle-earth, in a world called Arda; and Gandalf and Radagast had a hard time believing humans could fly and wreak havoc on the same level as a dragon without the aid of magic or eagles. They also had a hard time believing there were no dragons in her world.  
In one thing Hannah was fortunate. After only a little bit of poking and prodding they had decided that she was not a threat and truly was just an ordinary girl who had somehow gotten herself tangled up in an extraordinary series of events. She suspected it might have had something to do with the genuine concern she expressed for her brother's safety, as she could only hope the station master had caught him and that the stairwell had been sturdy enough to shelter them from the blast. She bit her lip and shook her head, refusing to think about the alternate. Jonathan was alive. She had to believe that.

"Well, I suppose the only question that remains now is: what are we going to do with you?" Gandalf said with a significant look. Hannah raised an eyebrow.

"If it's all the same to you, Mr. Gandalf, I'd like to go home now." She answered frankly. She was worried about Jonathan and the rest of her family, and she was certain they would be worried about her. "The problem is, I'm not quite sure how to go about it, since I don't understand how I got here to begin with."

"Neither do we, unfortunately." Said Radagast sympathetically. Poor girl must be frightened to find herself so utterly lost and far from home.

"Yes, that does make things rather difficult." Gandalf agreed.

"Well then, I suppose the first thing I must do is learn as much as I can about this world, if I want to go back to mine. If something can happen once, it can happen again. Surely there must be some connection between our two worlds in order for this to happen?" said Hannah.

"And what will you do if you find that you cannot return home?" asked Gandalf.

"I'll cross that bridge when I come to it, but for now I don't think I can bear the thought of it." She said. Sinking traces of homesickness were already beginning to creep over her. The farthest she had ever been from home before was Cornwall.

"Well, until you do figure things out, why not stay with me?" Radagast offered kindly.

"Oh, thank you. But I wouldn't want to impose." Said Hannah politely.

"Nonsense!" Radagast cried. "We can't leave a child out here alone, you'll catch your death if something more dangerous doesn't catch you first."

"If it is knowledge and understanding you seek, and shelter you need," said Gandalf with a small twinkle in his eye, "I believe I may know the perfect place."


	2. Chapter 2

**Previously:**

_"Well then, I suppose the first thing I must do is learn as much as I can about this world, if I want to go back to mine. If something can happen once, it can happen again. Surely there must be some connection between our two worlds in order for this to happen?" said Hannah._

_"And what will you do if you find that you cannot return home?" asked Gandalf._

_"I'll cross that bridge when I come to it, but for now I don't think I can bear the thought of it." She said. Sinking traces of homesickness were already beginning to creep over her. The farthest she had ever been from home before was Cornwall._

_"Well, until you do figure things out, why not stay with me?" Radagast offered kindly._

_"Oh, thank you. But I wouldn't want to impose." Said Hannah politely._

_"Nonsense!" Radagast cried. "We can't leave a child out here alone, you'll catch your death if something more dangerous doesn't catch you first."_

_"If it is knowledge and understanding you seek, and shelter you need," said Gandalf with a small twinkle in his eye, "I believe I may know the perfect place."_

* * *

**Chapter 2: First Impressions**

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Over the course of the next two years, under the tutelage and protection of Gandalf and Lord Elrond of Rivendell (whom she was often left in the care of during the wizard's longer and more perilous journeys), Hannah learned much about the world of Arda and the history and cultures of the many races who inhabited it. However, not only was she no closer to finding a way home, but a dark Shadow was growing in fair Middle-earth; and it was spreading steadily at a rate that greatly troubled her Istar guardian.  
Gandalf had grown very troubled and anxious of late, for upon investigating the Necromancer in Dol Guldur he had discovered the villain's true identity was in fact Sauron. He knew the Dark Lord had arisen again and would soon declare himself, and he knew that he was preparing for another great war. But how would he begin? Would he try first to re-occupy Mordor, or would he first attack the chief strongholds of his enemies? Gandalf suspected his plan was to attack Lórien and Rivendell as soon as he was strong enough. The state of things in the North was very bad. The Kingdom under the Mountain and the strong Men of Dale were no more. To resist any force that Sauron might send to regain the northern passes in the mountains and the old lands of Angmar there were only the Dwarves of the Iron Hills, and behind them lay a desolation and a Dragon named Smaug. The Dragon Sauron might use with terrible effect.  
Of course none of this was ever told directly to Hannah who, having only just turned fourteen-years-old, was still viewed by the ancient beings around her as a child to be protected. But Hannah was more perceptive than most, and she was able to put the pieces of the puzzle together for herself using bits and pieces of information she had garnered from certain conversations she happened to overhear and Gandalf's mumbled musings while lost in thought. In fact, it was one of these instances that became the cause of Hannah finally being drawn into his conspiracy one evening.

"I must find some means of dealing with Smaug. But a direct stroke against Dol Guldur is needed still more. We must disturb Sauron's plans. I must make the Council see that." The wizard muttered to himself as he smoked his pipe by the fire in the Hall of Fire. So deep in thought was he that he had forgotten Hannah was also there, studying a scroll by the firelight, until she spoke.

"Yes, I don't understand why Saruman is being so stiff-necked about all of this." She said, startling him back to awareness. "Knowing how dangerous this Sauron is and what he's capable of, weakened or not, wouldn't it be better to stop him now before he's able to regain his former strength? My Grandfather (on my mother's side) used to say the best defense was a good offense."

"In this case I would have to agree with him." Said Gandalf, looking at his clever young ward with renewed interest. "But the question is, how to go about it?"

"We could try to force his hand before he's ready. That way he would have to reveal himself, and even Saruman would have to face the facts. I don't like war, but a it seems to me a small one would be preferable to a great one. If you wait put it off any longer, it sounds like it could turn into a terrible war involving the whole of this world. I don't want to see something like that happen, not again." She answered grimly, remembering all the pain and suffering in her world she had seen caused by the second Great War.

"We?" Asked Gandalf. She had the right idea; in fact, he had already begun to take steps to do just that.

"Yes, we. I want to help." Hannah said determinedly. "I know you think I'm just a child, and I know I'm an outsider, but I've grown very fond of this world, and I'd hate to see it ruined."

"No, it's too dangerous." Said Gandalf. For they had become as fond of her as she of them. "There's no need for you to risk your life."

"Gandalf, you're forgetting I came from a very troubled and war-torn world. No one was safe. You step outside, you risk your life. You stay at home, you risk your life. We didn't have a choice. I learned the only thing I could choose was what to risk it for. And if I can help save lives, that's reason enough for me. I don't want this world to end up like mine." The wizard stared at her for a moment before letting out a sigh of resignation. He knew that look. If he tried to leave without her she would just end up following after him on her own, regardless of whether or not she had his blessing. And then, to her surprise, he laughed.

"My dear, Hannah. You never cease to amaze me. Yes, I suppose I shall have to bring you along now. At any rate, you will finally get a chance to see more of the world you're so curious about, and I have often found that most effective way of educating yourself is to go on an adventure." With that decided, the wizard found he felt that he was finally ready to act. "Go and pack your things. We leave on the morrow."

"Where are we going?" She asked so she would know what to bring.

"A place that is very dear to my heart." Answered Gandalf with a small smile.

"Might I inquire as to where you are setting of to?" Elrond asked curiously when he encountered the two of them on the way out the next morning. He knew they were up to something because they were both dressed for travel, and Hannah was outfitted with her short bow and a full quiver of arrows.

"Oh, well, it occurred to me that I had been neglecting Hannah as of late, so I thought I might take her on a little journey to the Shire." Gandalf answered casually.

"I see." Replied Elrond with a tone that implied he didn't believe that was the whole story. But he didn't question them. Instead the elf lord told them to take care and bid them farewell. And with that, the wizard and his ward were off.

As they traveled Gandalf confirmed what she thought she had already known and told her of his plan to have the Dwarves retake the Lonely Mountain so that it would be occupied by potential allies rather than a sure enemy. Thorin Oakenshield, who had been living in exile with his people ever since they were forced from their homeland by Smaug, was troubled too. So troubled that he had actually asked the wizard for his advice. Thorin's heart was hot with broodings on his wrongs, and the loss of treasure of his forefathers, and burdened also with the duty of revenge upon Smaug that he had inherited. Apparently Dwarves take such duties very seriously. Gandalf had promised to help him if he could since he was as eager to see the end of Smaug as the Dwarf, but Thorin was all for plans of battle and war, as if he were already King Thorin the Second, and Gandalf could see no hope in that. So he had left him and went of to the Shire with the thought that if he put these troubles out of his mind for a while he might perhaps find a way of dealing with them. He was not able to put them out of his mind, but he was able to pick up the threads of what he thought was some hopeful news. He had been away from the Shire for more than twenty years, and in that time a young hobbit that he had been fond of had come of age and was, according to the local gossip, still just as curious about the outside world as ever. Both his parents had died early for Shire-folk, at about eighty; and he had never married. He was already growing a bit queer, they said, and went off for days by himself. He could be seen talking to strangers, even Dwarves. Upon hearing that, suddenly in the old wizard's mind these three things came together: the great Dragon with his lust, and his keen hearing scent; the sturdy heavy-booted Dwarves with their old burning grudge; and the quick, soft-footed Hobbit, sick at heart (he guessed) for a sight of the wide world. Gandalf had laughed at himself; but he went off at once to have a look this Bilbo Baggins, to see what twenty years had done to him, and whether he was as promising as gossip seemed to make out. But Bilbo was not at home. They shook their heads in Hobbiton when Gandalf asked after him. "Off again," said one Hobbit. "Off again. He'll go right off one of these days, if he isn't careful. Why I asked him where he was going, and when he would be back, and 'I don't know' he says; and then he looks at me queerly. 'It depends if I meet any, Holman,' he says. 'It's the Elves' New Year tomorrow!' A pity, and him so kind a body. You wouldn't find a better from the Downs to the River." _Better and Better!_ Gandalf had thought. _I think I shall risk it._ Time was getting short. He had to be with the White Council in August at the latest, or Saruman would have his way and nothing would be done. And quite apart from greater matters, that might prove fatal to the quest: the power in Dol Guldur would not leave any attempt on Erebor unhindered, unless he had something else to deal with.  
So he rode off back to Thorin with haste and somehow managed to accomplish the difficult task of persuading the Dwarf to put aside his lofty designs and go secretly—and to take Bilbo with him. Without seeing Bilbo first. Which was why they were now on their way to pay the Hobbit a visit.

Hannah found she quite liked the Shire. The rolling green hills, dirt paths, woods, little streams, and gardens reminded her of the English countryside. And Hobbiton gave the impression of being much more peaceful and cozier than Bree, which was practically medieval in all its sights, sounds, and smells. The hobbits themselves were a bit peculiar-looking with their short build, odd ears, and wooly feet, but they seemed pleasant enough despite the wary glances many of the adults kept casting their way as they walked to Bag End. Gandalf had warned her ahead of time that they were shy of strangers. Fortunately, they found that Bilbo was home that day. He was sitting on a bench in his lovely little Garden at Bag End, enjoying a smoke. Hannah smiled slightly in amusement when Gandalf reshaped the hobbit's smoke ring into a butterfly, and it fluttered back into his face. The pleasantly plump hobbit coughed and blinked as he looked around, a bit confused and flustered by the sudden influx of smoke, for his eyes had been closed, and he had not at all been expecting it.  
From Bilbo's point of view, it had been so long since he last saw the wizard that he had quite forgotten what he looked like. All that the unsuspecting hobbit saw that morning was and old man with a staff and a young girl. The old man had a tall pointed blue-grey hat, a long grey cloak, a silver scarf over which a light grey beard hung down almost to his waist, and immense black boots. The girl wore her dark curly hair in two thick plaits that hung down over her shoulders, practical traveling clothes that were pale green-blue and brown in a mix of the styles of Elves and Men, a bow and arrows, sturdy brown boots, and a very unusual eye-color. For a moment Bilbo thought she might be a young Elf, for he had never seen anyone with violet eyes before and hadn't even thought such a thing were possible, but he quickly realized that couldn't be the case because she didn't have the pointy ears.

"Good morning." Bilbo said, wondering what they were doing in front of his home.

"What do you mean?" asked Gandalf. "Do you wish us a good morning, or do you mean that it is a good morning whether we want it or not; or that you feel good this morning; or that it is a morning to be good on?" Hannah subtly cast her mentor a somewhat wry and humorous expression.

"All of them at once, I suppose." Said Bilbo, glancing between the two strangers. "Can I help you?"

"That remains to be seen." Said Gandalf. "We are looking for someone to share in an adventure." Bilbo nearly dropped his pipe.

"An adventure?" the hobbit asked, looking troubled as he furrowed his brow. "No, I don't imagine anyone west of Bree would have much interest in adventures. Nasty, disturbing, uncomfortable things. Make you late for dinner! I can't think what anybody sees in them." He said with a nervous laugh as he got up and removed his morning letters from the mailbox, and began to read, pretending to take no more notice of the old man and his young companion. He had decided that they were not quite his sort and wanted them to go away. But they did not move. Instead they stood there and continued to gaze at the hobbit without saying anything, till Bilbo got quite uncomfortable and even a little cross.

"Good morning!" Bilbo said at last as he turned away from them, clearly meaning to end the uncomfortable conversation.

"What a lot of things you use _good morning_ for!" remarked Hannah. "Now he means to get rid of us, and it won't be good till we move off."

"Hmm. To think that I should have lived to be good-morninged by Belladonna Took's son, as if I was selling buttons at the door!" Gandalf huffed with disappointment. "You have changed, and not entirely for the better, Bilbo Baggins."

"I'm sorry, do I know you?" asked Bilbo.

"Well, you know my name, although you don't remember I belong to it. I am Gandalf. And Gandalf means… me." said the wizard. "Ah, yes, and my young companion here is Hannah Hayes." He added upon realizing he had almost forgotten to introduce her. Hannah bowed her head politely to Bilbo, but he was too surprised to react. Her name was strange to the hobbit, but he recognized her mentor's almost at once.

"Gandalf? Good gracious me! Not Gandalf the wandering wizard that gave Old Took a pair of magic diamond studs that fastened themselves and never came undone till ordered? Not the fellow who used to tell such wonderful tales at parties, about dragons and goblins and giants and the rescue of princesses and the unexpected luck of widows' sons? Not the man that used to make such particularly excellent fireworks! I remember those! Old Took used to have them on Midsummer's Eve. Splendid! They used to go up like great lilies and snapdragons and laburnums of fire and hang in the twilight all evening! Life used to be quite inter—" Bilbo said with a laugh, before he remembered himself, clearing his throat. "I mean, you used to upset things quite badly in these parts once upon a time. I had no idea you were still in business."

"And where else should I be?" asked Gandalf a bit crossly, not liking his tone.

"Where else—?" Bilbo began, but wisely stopped before he got himself into more trouble and stuck his pipe back in his mouth, taking a few nervous puffs.

"Well, I am pleased to find you remember something about me… even if it's only my fireworks." Gandalf said. "Well, I suppose this means you're not completely beyond hope. Indeed, for your old grandfather Took's sake, and for the sake of poor Belladonna, I will give you what asked for."

"I beg your pardon, I haven't asked for anything!" said Bilbo.

"Yes, you have! Twice now." Said Gandalf. "It's decided. I'm sending you on this adventure. It will be very good for you—and most amusing for me. I shall inform the others. Come along, Hannah."

"Inform the who? What? No. No. No—Wait!" said Bilbo. "We do not want any adventures here, thank you. Not today. Good Morning! But please come to tea—any time you like! Why not tomorrow? Come tomorrow! Good-bye!" With that the hobbit scuttled inside his round green door, and shut it as quickly as he dared, not to seem rude. Wizards are wizards after all.

"What on earth did I ask them to tea for!" he said to himself, as he locked the door and went to the pantry. He had only just had breakfast, but he thought a cake or two might do him good after his fright.

Gandalf and Hannah in the meantime were still standing outside the door.

"I think that went rather well, don't you?" Gandalf asked her as he stepped up and, began scratching a rune on the beautiful green door with the spike if his staff. Hannah raised an eyebrow at him and shook her head.

"You're terrible." She told him with a smile. Then they strode away to let the Dwarves know the game was afoot, just about the time when Bilbo was finishing his second cake and beginning to think that he had escaped adventures very well.


	3. Chapter 3

**Previously:**

_"I beg your pardon, I haven't asked for anything!" said Bilbo._

_"Yes, you have! Twice now." Said Gandalf. "It's decided. I'm sending you on this adventure. It will be very good for you—and most amusing for me. I shall inform the others. Come along, Hannah."_

_"Inform the who? What? No. No. No—Wait!" said Bilbo. "We do not want any adventures here, thank you. Not today. Good Morning! But please come to tea—any time you like! Why not tomorrow? Come tomorrow! Good-bye!" With that the hobbit scuttled inside his round green door, and shut it as quickly as he dared, not to seem rude. Wizards are wizards after all._

_"What on earth did I ask them to tea for!" he said to himself, as he locked the door and went to the pantry. He had only just had breakfast, but he thought a cake or two might do him good after his fright._

_Gandalf and Hannah in the meantime were still standing outside the door._

_"I think that went rather well, don't you?" Gandalf asked her as he stepped up and, began scratching a rune on the beautiful green door with the spike if his staff. Hannah raised an eyebrow at him and shook her head._

_"You're terrible." She told him with a smile. Then they strode away to let the Dwarves know the game was afoot, just about the time when Bilbo was finishing his second cake and beginning to think that he had escaped adventures very well._

* * *

**Chapter 3: A Somewhat Expected Party**

* * *

As Gandalf and Hannah were making their way back to Bag End the following afternoon for tea, as Bilbo had so unwittingly agreed to, they encountered several of the Dwarves that were to be in their party.

"It's Gandalf! At your service!" They greeted him with sweeping bows.

"Ah, Hannah. Meet Dori, Nori, Ori, Oin, Glóin, Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur." Said Gandalf. "All of you, this is Hannah Hayes."

"At your service." They greeted her with another bow.

"At yours." She answered politely, bowing in return.

"Is this wee lass our burglar?" asked Glóin, though Hannah stood an inch or two taller than he. "I thought it was supposed to be a fellow by the name of Bilbo. That's what it said in your message."

"Oh, no, the message you received was correct. Hannah is my apprentice, and she will be accompanying me on this venture." Hannah was surprised by her sudden promotion, but she kept her poker-face firmly in place.

"Oh, a wizard's apprentice! Well, that's something you don't see every day." Said Bofur as they all gazed at the young girl with appraising eyes, deeply impressed. For now they were sure there must be more to her than meets the eye.

"Are you sure you should be telling them that?" Hannah whispered to the wizard as they continued on their way to the hobbit's hole, walking behind the others. They were clearly under the wrong impression that she was capable of magic.

"Why not? After all it is true, to certain extent." Said Gandalf. Indeed, she had shown such a keen interest in his fireworks that she had practically begged of him to teach the art and science behind their making to her, in addition to everything else she was learning. Hannah may not be the wizard or witch the others imagined her to be, but she was not without skills of her own.  
_Ding-dong-a-ling-dang_ the Dwarves rang the hobbit's bell, and the door was pulled open with a jerk, causing them all to fall in one on top of the other, shooting into the hall like the cork of a pop-gun. Only Gandalf and Hannah, who had been at the very back, were spared.

"Gandalf." Said Bilbo when he saw the wizard, looking flustered. He had been very angry and altogether bewildered and bewuthered, but he found himself somewhat relieved now that there were at least one or two familiar faces present.

"Oh, this is lovely." Hannah said once they were all inside, complimenting the hobbit's home.

"Thank you its—" Bilbo began to answer when he realized the Dwarves were all swarming into his pantry to help themselves. "Those are my pri—! Excuse me, not my wine. Put that back. Put that back." He said as he ran over to try to stop them, but the Dwarves appeared to either possess some very selective hearing or simply didn't understand the word _no_. One after another, they brought out as much food as they could carry. "Not the jam, please." Bilbo said sternly. "Excuse me. Excuse me. That's a tad excessive, isn't it?" he asked Bombur when he emerged laden with several large cheese wheels. "Have you got a cheese knife?"

"Cheese knife? He eats it by the block." Said Bofur as he passed by with the ham.

"Ugh." Bilbo groaned. He started when he saw that had now begun to move the furniture. "No, that's Grandpa Mungo's chair— No, so is that. Take it back, please."

"I cannot hear what you're saying." Said Oin as the hobbit stood in his way, doing his best to protect the family heirloom.

"It's an antique. Not for sitting on." Bilbo said louder. All of this Hannah and Gandalf watched with a combination of sympathy and wry amusement. Hannah was almost tempted to help him, as she would also be quite miffed if a bunch of strangers had suddenly come into her house and tried to the same, but Gandalf bid her to follow him into the hall, where the dwarves had moved the dinning table to help set it.

"That is a book, not a coaster." They heard Bilbo continue from another room. "And put that map down."

"Excuse me, Mr. Gandalf?" said Dori politely, getting the wizard's attention.

"Yes?" answered Gandalf.

"May I tempt you with a cup of chamomile?" the Dwarf offered, pouring himself a cup of hot tea.

"Oh, no, thank you, Dori. A little red wine for me, I think." Said the wizard. "Hannah, be a dear and put on a few eggs."

"I'll take a cup of chamomile, if you don't mind." Said Hannah as she prepared to cook the eggs while her mentor left to conduct a head count of all the Dwarves bustling about here and there.

"Whoop! Mind out." Nori said as he brushed past the tall wizard with more food for the table.

"Yes—Ah." The wizard said, bumping his head on the chandelier. "Uh, Filli, Killi." He counted as the two brothers passed him carting a barrel of beer. "Uh… Óin, Glóin. Dwalin, Balin, Bifur, Bofur, Bombur… Dori, Nori. Ori!" He said when he caught the young dwarf wrestling Bilbo for a basket of tomatoes.

"Not my prize-winners, thank you!" said Bilbo, successfully rescuing them the moment Ori loosened his grip on the basket upon hearing the wizard call his name.

"We appear to be one Dwarf short." Gandalf mused. It would seem, as Hannah would say, the main star of the show had yet to arrive.

"He is late, is all." Said Dwalin. "He traveled north to a meeting of our kin. He will come."

"Mr. Gandalf. A little glass of red wine, as requested. It's got a fruity bouquet." Said Dori, offering him a glass.

"Oh, cheers." Said the wizard. It was very little indeed. It was a good size for a hobbit, but the wizard needed only two fingers to hold the cup. However, the wine itself was very pleasant and refreshing. Bilbo certainly had good taste.

It was a very merry gathering with everyone gathered round the table for the feast the Dwarves had set up.

"Not a chance. Not from this distance." Said Dwalin as he and his neighbors discussed the likelihood of Bombur, who was seated at the far end of the table, being able to catch a boiled egg in his mouth from where they sat.

"Wanna bet?" Asked Bofur. "Bombur, catch!" He called, grabbing an egg and tossing it to the fat Dwarf, who was already on his second leg of lamb. Everyone watched as the egg sailed across the table and let out a great cheer when Bombur caught it successfully with his mouth, swallowing it whole.

"Oh, you great galumphing git!" said Óin when Fili hopped up on the table with a couple of tankards in hand.

"Who wants an ale? There you go." Fili said, handing one to Dwalin.

"Over here, brother." Called Kili at the other end of the table.

"What did you say?" asked Óin, putting his hearing-horn in his ear.

"I said have another drink." Said Dwalin, pouring some of his ale into the horn. "Here you go." Óin shuddered when the liquid flooded into his ear and quickly removed the horn, blowing the rest of the ale out at the others while they laughed.

"Ale on the count of three!" said Bofur. "One, two…"

"Up!" finished Kili. All the Dwarves knocked back their ale in great big gulps and didn't stop until their tankards had been completely drained. They all laughed when Nori let out a series of small burps, but Ori was not to be out-done. The young Dwarf stood up and proudly unleashed a long roar of a belch.

"I knew you had it in you!" said Bofur as they all laughed in delight while Hannah waved a hand in front of her face, attempting to clear the smell from air.  
Meanwhile, poor Bilbo had been taking in the state of his now almost completely barren pantry. These Dwarves were dangerously close to eating him out of house and home! As far as he could remember this was the most awkward Wednesday he had ever experienced. Feeling positively flummoxed, the hobbit was beginning to wonder whether a most wretched adventure had not come right into his house. The Dwarves ate and ate, and talked and talked, and time got on. At last they pushed their chairs back, and Bilbo made a move to collect the plates and glasses.

"Excuse me, that is a doily, not a dishcloth." He said sternly, quickly rescuing the poor thing from Nori before he could soil it.

"But it's full of holes." Said Bofur.

"It's supposed to look like that. It's crochet." Bilbo retorted.

"And a wonderful game it is too, if you've got the balls for it." Said Bofur as the hobbit walked off to put the doily away.

"Bebother and confusticate these Dwarves!" cursed Bilbo as Gandalf and Hannah came over to check on him.

"My dear Bilbo, what on earth is the matter?" asked the wizard.

"What's the matter? I'm surrounded by Dwarves." Answered Bilbo. "What are they doing here?"

"Oh, they're quite a merry gathering once you get used to them." Said Gandalf.

'Which is much easier when they aren't your problem.' Thought Hannah.

"I don't want to get used to them!" said Bilbo. "Look at the state of my Kitchen. There's mud trod into the carpet. They've pillaged the pantry. I'm not even going tell you what they've done in the bathroom. They've all but destroyed the plumbing. I don't understand what they're doing in my house!"

"Excuse me." Said Ori. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but what should I do with my plate?"

"Here you go, Ori. Give it to me." Said Fili, taking it off his hands and tossing it to his brother over Hannah's shoulder. Kili deftly caught the plate and threw it to Bifur, who was waiting by the sink.

"Excuse me, that's my mother's West Farthing pottery. It's over a hundred years old!" Bilbo said anxiously as they continued to juggle and pass the plates amongst each other like an assembly line. "And can you not do that?" He asked the Dwarves who were still seated at the table, rubbing their forks and knives together and banging the ends on the table. "You'll blunt them."

"Ooh. Do you hear that, lads?" asked Bofur. "He says we'll blunt the knives." With that the Dwarves started to sing:

_Chip the glasses and crack the plates!  
Blunt the knives and bend the forks!  
That's what Bilbo Baggins hates—  
Smash the bottles and burn the corks!_

Cut the cloth and tread on the fat!  
Pour the milk on the pantry floor!  
Leave the bones on the bedroom mat!  
Splash the wine on every door!

Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl;  
Pound them up with a thumping pole;  
And when you've finished if any are whole,  
Send them down the hall to roll!

That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!  
So, carefully! Carefully with the plates!

And of course they did none of these dreadful things, and everything was cleaned and put away safe and quick as lightning, while the hobbit was turning round and round in the middle of the kitchen trying to see what they were doing. Gandalf and Hannah smiled as they watched the show, but poor Bilbo had looked like he was on the verge of having a heart-attack until he realized that everything the Dwarves had touched was all back in its proper place, none the worse for wear.  
_Thump, thump _sounded two heavy knocks at the door.

"He is here." Said Gandalf. The final and most important member of their company had finally arrived.

"Gandalf." Thorin greeted the wizard when he opened the door to let him in. "I thought you said this place was easy to find. I lost my way, twice." Hannah raised an eyebrow at that, but quickly adopted a neutral expression as the proud Dwarf handed her his traveling cloak to hang with the others, giving her an odd look, as if he had not expected to see her there. "I wouldn't have found it at all if it hadn't been for that mark on the door."

"Mark? There's no mark on that door." Said Bilbo. "It was painted a week ago."

"There is a mark. I put it there myself." Said Gandalf. "Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company: Thorin Oakenshield." Compared to the other Dwarves, Hannah found him rather haughty. He said nothing about _service_; and instead eyed Bilbo rather critically.

"So, this is the Hobbit." Said Thorin. "Tell me, Mr. Baggins, have you done much fighting?"

"Pardon me?" asked Bilbo as the charismatic dwarf circled round him.

"Axe or sword? What's you weapon of choice?" asked Thorin.

"Well, I do have some skill at conkers, if you must know." answered Bilbo. "But I fail to see why that's relevant."

"I thought as much." Said Thorin loftily. "He looks more like a grocer than a burglar. The other Dwarves laughed and followed their leader back to the table. Gandalf sighed.

"I think you had better bring out some more food." He told Bilbo and Hannah.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's note: I used the original versions of the songs as they were published in the book, so if they look different from what was in the movie, that's why.

* * *

**Previously:**

_"So, this is the Hobbit." Said Thorin. "Tell me, Mr. Baggins, have you done much fighting?"_

_"Pardon me?" asked Bilbo as the charismatic dwarf circled round him._

_"Axe or sword? What's you weapon of choice?" asked Thorin._

_"Well, I do have some skill at conkers, if you must know." answered Bilbo. "But I fail to see why that's relevant."_

_"I thought as much." Said Thorin loftily. "He looks more like a grocer than a burglar. The other Dwarves laughed and followed their leader back to the table. Gandalf sighed._

_"I think you had better bring out some more food." He told Bilbo and Hannah._

* * *

**Chapter 4: Terms and Conditions**

* * *

It was very quiet in Bag End while they all waited for Thorin Oakenshield to finish eating. With food in his belly and ale in his tankard, his mood seemed slightly improved. Bilbo made a move to collect the empty plates. Only Hannah got up to help him.

"I suppose you will all stay to supper?" asked Bilbo upon noting that it was nearly time for the next meal, and none of them seemed to be in any hurry to leave.

"Of course!" Said Thorin. "And after. We shan't get through the business till late. By the way, Gandalf, who is that girl? Why is there a child here?"

"That young lady, Miss Hannah Hayes, is my apprentice." Said the wizard, finally introducing his young companion, who turned and bowed her head politely to the Dwarf.

"I did not think wizards like you took apprentices." Said Thorin dubiously.

"Indeed we do not, normally. And that right there should tell that there is more to her than meets the eye." Answered Gandalf.

"Indeed." Said Thorin, though he did not appear convinced.

"What news from the meeting in Ered Luin?" asked Balin. "Did they all come?"

"Aye. Envoys from all seven kingdoms." Said Thorin. At this the Dwarves let out a cheer.

"And what did the Dwarves of the Iron Hills say?" asked Dwalin. "Is Dáin with us?"

"They will not come. They say this quest is ours and ours alone." Thorin answered solemnly. Their good spirits fell upon hearing that.

"You're going on a quest?" asked Bilbo, alerting the others to his presence. They hadn't even realized he had returned.

"Bilbo, my dear fellow, let us have a little more light." Said Gandalf. While Bilbo fetched another candle, the wizard withdrew an old map from his robes placed it in front of Thorin. "Far to the east, over ranges and rivers… beyond woodlands and wastelands… lies a single, solitary peak."

"The Lonely Mountain." Bilbo read aloud as he returned with the candle, peering over Thorin's shoulder.

"Aye, Óin has read the portents. And the portents say it is time." Said Glóin.

"Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain, as it was foretold: _When the birds of yore return to Erebor, the reign of the beast will end._" Said Óin.

"Uh, what beast?" asked Bilbo.

"That would be a reference to Smaug the Terrible, chiefest and greatest calamity of our age." Answered Bofur. "Airborne fire-breather. Teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks. Extremely fond of precious metals."

"Yes, I know what a dragon is." Said Bilbo.

"I'm not afraid. I'm up for it." said Ori, shooting out of his chair. "I'll give him a taste of Dwarfish iron right up his jacksie!"

"Good lad, Ori!" said Nori.

"Sit down." Said Dori, pulling the young Dwarf back into his seat.

"The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us; but we number just thirteen." Said Balin. "And not thirteen of the best. Nor brightest."

"Here, who you calling dim?" Ori asked while the other Dwarves muttered amongst themselves.

"Sorry, what did he say?" asked Óin.

"We may be few in number; but we're fighters, all of us, to the last Dwarf." Fili said boldly.

"And you forget, we have a wizard and his apprentice in our company." Added Kili. "Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time."

"Oh, well, no. I wouldn't say—" the wizard started as the eyes of Thorin and every Dwarf at the table flicked to him and Hannah.

"How many then?" asked Dori.

"What?" said Gandalf.

"Well, how many dragons have you killed?" Dori asked. Thorin stared pointedly at the wizard. Gandalf cough as if choking on the smoke from his pipe. Hannah had a feeling the answer was _none. _"Go on. Give us a number." Dori pressured him as the Dwarves began to kick up a fuss.

"Well, I suppose there's a first time for everything." Said Hannah. Gandalf shot her a look to let her know he did not find that at all helpful. Suddenly Thorin stood up and shouted something in the Dwarfish language. The room fell completely silent.

"If we have read these signs do you not think others will have read them as well?" he asked. "Rumors have begun to spread. The Dragon Smaug has not been seen for sixty years. Eyes look east to the Mountain assessing, wondering, weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to take back Erebor?" he finished strongly, instilling a sense of pride in the other Dwarves that inspired them anew, and they let out a great cheer.

"You forget, the Front Gate is sealed." Said Balin grimly. "There is no way into the mountain."

"That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true." Said Gandalf, producing a key of Dwarfish make that he had kept hidden until that moment.

"How came you by this?" asked Thorin.

"It was given to me by your father, Thráin. For safe-keeping." Answered Gandalf as he handed it over. "It is yours now." Thorin gazed at the key in his hand with wonder.

"If there is a key… then there must be a door." Said Fili.

'Brilliant deduction, Sherlock.' Thought Hannah, while Gandalf nodded in confirmation, pointing to an inscription on the map.

"These runes speak of a hidden passage to the Lower Halls." The wizard said.

"There's another way in." said Kili with a smile.

"Well, if we can find it, but Dwarf doors are invisible when closed." Said Gandalf with a sigh. "The answer lies hidden somewhere in this map, and I do not have the skill to find it. But there are others in Middle-earth who can. The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth and no small amount of courage." At this he cast a glance at Bilbo. "But if we are careful and clever, I believe it can be done."

"That's why we need a burglar." Said Ori.

"Hmm. And a good one too." Said Bilbo. "An expert, I'd imagine."

"And are you?" asked Glóin as the Dwarves turned their eyes on him. Bilbo looked up and glanced around.

"Am I what?" he asked, not taking their meaning.

"He said he's an expert. Hey!" Said Óin with a laugh and a grin.

"Me?" Bilbo asked surprised. "No. No, no, no. I'm not a burglar. I've never stolen a thing in my life."

"Well, I'm afraid I have to agree with Mr. Baggins." Said Balin. "He's hardly burglar material."

"Aye, the Wild is no place for gentle folk who can neither fight nor defend for themselves." Agreed Dwalin.

"You might as well send the lass in!" said Glóin. The other Dwarves quickly joined in grumbling about Gandalf's choice in quality of burglar. Hannah was the first to take notice of her mentor's ire at this, but the others were not far behind; he scowled so angrily that many of the Dwarves shrank back in their chairs as the room trembled, and the wizard and his shadow seemed to grow larger.

"Enough!" Gandalf boomed. "If I say Bilbo Baggins is a burglar, then a burglar he is, or will be when the time comes." He finished a little more calmly, and his shadow receded. "Hobbits are remarkably light on their feet. In fact they can pass unseen by most, if they choose. And while the Dragon is accustomed to the smell of Dwarf and Men the scent of Hobbit is all but unknown to him, which gives us a distinct advantage. You asked me to find the fourteenth member of this company and I have chosen Mr. Baggins. There's a lot more to him than appearances suggest. And he's got a great deal more to offer than any of you know, including himself. You must trust me on this." He said, looking directly at Thorin. "You may (possibly) all live to thank me yet."

"Very well. We will do it your way." Said Thorin. He supposed the hobbit was better than nothing.

"No, no." said Bilbo nervously. Although he had been touched by Gandalf's speech in his defense, the Baggins side of him was still hesitant to be dragged into an adventure.

"Give him the contract." Said Thorin.

"We're in. We're off." Said Bofur as Balin produced a thickly folded but rather official-looking piece of parchment.

"It's just the usual." Balin said as he handed it to the hobbit. "Summary of out-of-pocket expenses, time required, remuneration, funeral arrangements, so forth."

"Funeral arrangements?" asked Bilbo, almost squeaking. He definitely did not like the sound of that. Nevertheless, the Tookish part of him couldn't help but take a look. Bilbo sighed as he let the document unfold to read.

"I cannot guarantee his safety." Thorin said quietly to Gandalf.

"Understood." Said Gandalf.

"Nor will I be responsible for his fate."

"Agreed." Said the wizard with a small nod, though he hoped it would not come to that.

_"Terms: Cash on delivery, up to but not exceeding one-fourteenth of total profit, if any."_ Bilbo read aloud. "Hmm. Seems fair. _Present company shall not be liable for injuries inflicted by or sustained as a consequence thereof, including, but not limited to lacerations,"_ At this both Hannah and Gandalf looked up with concern, _"evisceration… incineration?"_ asked Bilbo, glancing back at the Dwarves.

"Oh, aye. He'll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye." Said Bofur. Bilbo paled slightly and let out an almost in audible whimper. Hannah couldn't say she blamed him. Burning to death was not a pleasant way to go.

"Are you all right, laddie?" asked Balin.

"Huh? Yeah." Bilbo said, putting his hands on his knees to steady himself as he leaned over and breathed. "Feel a bit faint."

"Think furnace with wings." Bofur continued.

"Air. I need air." Said Bilbo.

"Flash of light, searing pain, then poof. You're nothing more than a pile of ash." Said Bofur.

"Hmm." Bilbo said. His spine stiffened, and for a moment he appeared to have pulled himself together. "Nope." The hobbit said and promptly fainted.

"Brilliant." Said Hannah drolly.

"Very helpful, Bofur." Said Gandalf with a frown.

"I'll be all right. Just let me sit quietly for a moment." Bilbo said once he had regained consciousness, cradling the cup of chamomile tea Hannah had made for him while he sat in his comfy chair by the fire.

"You've been sitting quietly for far too long." Said Gandalf. "Tell me, when did doilies and your mother's dishes become so important to you? I remember a young Hobbit who was always running off in search of Elves in the woods. Who would stay out late, come home after dark, trailing mud and twigs and fireflies. A young Hobbit who would have liked nothing better than to find out what was beyond the borders of a the Shire. The world is not in your books and maps. It's out there."

"I can't just go running off into the blue." Said Bilbo. "I am a Baggins of Bag End."

"You are also a Took." Said Gandalf. "Did you know that your great-great-great-great-uncle Bullroarer Took was so large he could ride a real horse?"

"Yes." Bilbo said quietly.

"Yes, well, he could." Said the wizard firmly. "In the Battle of Green Fields he charged the Goblin ranks. He swung his club so hard it knocked the Goblin king's head clean off, and it sailed a hundred yards through the air and went down a rabbit hole. And thus, the battle was won. And the game of golf invented at the same time." Hannah raised an eyebrow at that colorful anecdote, as did Bilbo.

"I do believe you made that up." Said the Hobbit with a small smile.

"Well, all good stories deserve embellishment." Replied Gandalf. "You'll have a tale or two to tell of your own when you come back."

"Can you promise that I will come home." Asked Bilbo.

"No." Gandalf answered honestly. "And if you do, you will not be the same."

"That's what I thought." Said Bilbo. "Sorry, Gandalf, I can't sign this. You've got the wrong hobbit." And with that, Bilbo stood up and walked away, leaving the contract sitting on the pouf in front of his chair.

"We appear to have lost our burglar." Balin remarked to Thorin. "Probably for the best. The odds were always against us. After all, what are we? Merchants, miners, tinkers, toy-makers—Hardly the stuff of legends."

"There are a few warriors amongst us." Said Thorin, looking directly at the white-bearded Dwarf in front of him.

"Old warriors." Balin reminded him. He was no spring-chicken anymore.

"I would take each and every one of the Dwarves over an army from the Iron Hills." Said Thorin. "For when I called upon them, they answered. Loyalty, honor, a willing heart; I can ask for no more than that."

"You don't have to do this." Balin said. "You have a choice. You have done honorably by our people. You have built a new life for us in the Blue Mountains. A life of peace and plenty. A life that is worth all the gold in Erebor."

"From my grandfather to my father, this has come to me." Said Thorin, holding up the key. "They dreamt of the day when the Dwarves of Erebor would reclaim their homeland. There is no choice, Balin. Not for me. Balin nodded.

"Then we are with you, laddie." He said. "We will see it done."

The Dwarves and Gandalf moved into the parlor to have a smoke by the fire. Hannah remained at the well-lit table to read and perhaps write in her journal. And suddenly first one and then another voice could be heard, deep-throated singing of the Dwarves in the deep places of their ancient homes. Curious, Hannah got up and moved closer to listen, and found herself joined by Bilbo. The dark came into the room from the little window that opened in the side of The Hill; the firelight flickered—it was April—and still the song went on, while the shadow of Gandalf's beard wagged against the wall.

_Far over the misty mountains cold_  
_To dungeons deep, and caverns old_  
_We must away ere break of day_  
_To seek the pale enchanted gold._

_The dwarves of yore made mighty spells,_  
_While hammers fell like ringing bells_  
_In places deep, where dark things sleep,_  
_In hollow halls beneath the fells._

_For ancient king and elvish lord,_  
_There many a gleaming golden hoard_  
_They shaped and wrought, and light they caught_  
_To hide in gems on hilt of sword._

_On silver necklaces they strung_  
_The flowering stars, on crowns they hung_  
_The dragon-fire, in twisted wire_  
_They meshed the light of moon and sun._

_Far over the misty mountains cold_  
_To dungeons deep and caverns old_  
_We must away, ere break of day,_  
_To claim our long-forgotten gold._

_Goblets they carved there for themselves_  
_And harps of gold; where no man delves_  
_There lay they long, and many a song_  
_Was sung unheard by men or elves._

_The pines were roaring on the height,_  
_The winds were moaning in the night._  
_The fire was red, it flaming spread;_  
_The trees like torches blazed with light._

_The bells were ringing in the dale_  
_And men looked up with faces pale;_  
_Then dragon's ire more fierce than fire_  
_Laid low their towers and houses frail._

_The mountain smoked beneath the moon;_  
_The dwarves, they heard the tramp of doom._  
_They fled their hall to dying fall_  
_Beneath his feet, beneath the moon._

_Far over the misty mountains grim_  
_To dungeons deep and caverns dim_  
_We must away, ere break of day,_  
_To win our harps and gold from him!_

As they sang Bilbo and Hannah felt the love of beautiful things made by hands and by cunning and by magic moving through them, a fierce and jealous love, the desire of the hearts of Dwarves. Then something Tookish woke up inside the hobbit, and he wished to go and see the great mountains, and hear the pines and the waterfalls, and explore the caves, and wear a sword instead of a walking stick. He looked out the window. The stars were out in a dark sky above the trees. He thought of the jewels of the Dwarves shining in dark caverns. Suddenly in the wood beyond The Water a flame leapt up—probably somebody lighting a wood-fire—and he thought of plundering dragons settling on his quiet Hill and kindling it all to flames. He shuddered; and very quickly he was plain Mr. Baggins of Bag End, Under-Hill, again.

"I wonder how they can be so determined to venture into such danger." He said aloud as he was sitting at the table with Hannah a little later on.

"It's their home." She answered, as if that were all the explanation needed. Bilbo then noticed she was writing in her journal using strange language he had never seen before. It was neither Elvish nor old runes.

"What language is that?" he asked curiously.

"This is the language of my forefathers, passed down on my father's side." She answered with a small smile. She had decided to use the Hebrew that her Zayde had taught her to keep her thoughts safe from prying eyes. Although she and her brother had been baptized Catholic like their mother, they were still half Jewish through their father, and Zayde had insisted on teaching the old ways to his grandchildren and passed much of their culture on to them. "Actually, their history is quite similar to the Dwarves'." She said. "They also lost their ancestral homeland and became refugees in foreign lands, who have struggled to maintain their cultural identity while settling into their new homelands, and have had to endure much prejudice." Though this was true for both sides of her family (since her mother's family had to come to England during the Irish Diaspora), it was the Jews who appeared to have the most in common with Dwarves. Medieval views of Jews also saw them as having a propensity for making well-crafted and beautiful things, a trait shared with the Dwarves. Her Zayde was such an exceptionally skilled watchmaker that his work had been considered art and was highly sought after. Hannah was very proud of him. Also, like her father's family, who made frequent use of Yiddish in the comfort of their own homes, the Dwarves used their own language only amongst themselves and adopted the languages of those they lived amongst for the most part. The Dwarves' secret language (Khudzul) even sounded very much like a Semitic language and had a similar phonology to Hebrew, but despite the similar cadence of speech, the two languages were very different in meaning and form; and Hannah could not understand a word of it.

"Is that why you're going?" asked Bilbo. "Because they remind you of your family?"

"Partly. But there are other reasons as well." Answered Hannah with a wan smile. "Well, I think we have all talked long enough for one night. We should get to bed too. We have an early start tomorrow. I hope there's enough food left for everyone to have a good breakfast before we go." Bilbo was about to contest the _we_ part of her last sentence, when Thorin spoke, alerting them to his presence. They wondered how long he had been standing there and how much he had heard.

"Agreed." He said. "I like eggs with my ham, when starting on a journey: fried not poached, and mind you don't break them."

After all the others had ordered their breakfasts without so much as a please (which annoyed Bilbo and Hannah very much, as it seemed they were expected to take care of everything), they all got up. The hobbit had to find room for them all, and filled all his spare-rooms and made beds on chairs and sofas, before he got them all stowed and went to his own little bed very tired and not altogether happy. One thing he did make up his mind about was not to bother to get up very early and cook everyone else's wretched breakfast, and he hoped Hannah did the same.  
It was long after the break of day, when he woke up.


	5. Chapter 5

**Previously:**

_After all the others had ordered their breakfasts without so much as a please (which annoyed Bilbo and Hannah very much, as it seemed they were expected to take care of everything), they all got up. The hobbit had to find room for them all, and filled all his spare-rooms and made beds on chairs and sofas, before he got them all stowed and went to his own little bed very tired and not altogether happy. One thing he did make up his mind about was not to bother to get up very early and cook everyone else's wretched breakfast, and he hoped Hannah did the same._  
_It was long after the break of day, when he woke up._

* * *

**Chapter 5: Roast Mutton**

* * *

"Aren't we going to wait for Bilbo?" asked Hannah as she, Gandalf, and the Dwarves started away on their journey with everyone on a pony, except the wizard who was on a horse because he was too large to ride the small breed.

"Don't worry, I left him a note along with the contract that we would be waiting for him at the Green Dragon Inn in Bywater, if he does not catch up to us sooner." Said Gandalf.

Fortunately they did not have to wait long, and the hobbit soon came flying up behind them before they had gone too far from Hobbiton.

"Wait! Wait!" cried Bilbo, calling them to a halt. "I signed it. Here." He said proudly, handing the contract up to Balin. Gandalf and Hannah smiled at the hobbit as he glanced over at them, glad to see he had made it.

"Everything appears to be in order." Said Balin. "Welcome, Master Baggins, to the company of Thorin Oakenshield." The old Dwarf said with a chuckle while the others laughed, (most of them) pleasantly surprised.

"Give him a pony." Said Thorin.

"No, no, that won't be necessary, thank you. I'm sure I can keep up on foot." Said Bilbo quickly, clearly very uncomfortable with the idea. "I've done my fair share of walking holidays, you know? Even got as far as Frogmorton once." But his protests were of no use, and the hobbit let out a small cry as he found himself being hauled up and set upon a pony, without his consent. Hannah and Gandalf shared a small smile of wry amusement at the sour expression on the hobbit's face while he sat atop his ride.

"Come on, Nori. Pay up." Said Óin, laughing as he caught the small pouch of coins tossed his way.

"One more." Said Kili.

"Thanks, lad." Said Óin as another was tossed his way.

"What's that about?" Bilbo asked Gandalf.

"Oh, they took wagers on whether or not you would turn up." Answered Gandalf. "Most of them bet that you wouldn't."

"And what did you think?" asked Bilbo.

"Well…" said the wizard. He and Hannah both reached up and caught their winnings as they were tossed at them. Gandalf chuckled. He hadn't realized she had also placed a bet. That was very bold of her, considering she hadn't enough coin of her own to back it up. "My dear fellow, we never doubted you for a second." Bilbo began to smile, but then screwed up his face and let out a rather loud sneeze.

"Ugh. It's horse hair. Must be having a reaction." He groaned, quickly searching his pockets for a handkerchief. "No, wait, wait, stop. Stop! We have to turn around." Bilbo said, holding up a hand to halt the company.

"What on earth is the matter?" asked Gandalf.

"I've forgotten my handkerchief." Answered Bilbo.

"You can't be serious?" Hannah deadpanned. He stopped them for that?

"Here, use this." Said Bofur, tossing him his spare. To Bilbo's dismay it was less like a handkerchief and more like a rough dirty rag. It was heavy and made a very suspiciously wet smacking sound when he caught it. Hannah grimaced while the rest of the Dwarves let out a chuckle.

"Move on." Said Thorin, leading the company on again.

"Here." Hannah said, pulling up beside Bilbo to lend him her own spare, taking pity on the hobbit. Bilbo was very grateful, for unlike Bofur's rag, it was made of smooth and clean white linen that was still as fresh as a daisy. It had two H's and a rose embroidered on one of the corners.

After that the party went along very merrily, and they told stories or sang songs as they rode forward all day, except of course when they stopped for meals. These did come quite as often as Bilbo would have liked them, but still he began to feel that adventures were not so bad after all.  
At first they passed through Hobbit-lands, a wild respectable country inhabited by decent folk, with good roads, an inn or two, and now and then a dwarf or farmer ambling by on business. Then they came to lands where people spoke strangely, and sang songs Bilbo had never heard before. Now they had gone far into the Lone-lands, where there were no people left, no inns, and the roads grew steadily worse. Not far ahead were dreary hills, rising higher and higher, dark with trees. On some of them were old castles with an evil look, as if they had been built by wicked people. Everything seemed gloomy, for the weather that day had taken a nasty turn. Mostly it had been as good as May can be, even in merry tales, but now it was cold and wet. In the Lone-lands they had to camp when they could, but at least it had been dry.

"To think it will soon be June." Grumbled Bilbo as they splashed along in a very muddy track. It was after tea-time; it was pouring with rain, and had been all day; his hood was dripping into his eyes, his cloak was full of water; the ponies were tired and stumbled on stones; the others were too grumpy to talk, all except for Hannah that is.

"I quite like the rain." She said pleasantly. There was something cleansing about it. "After all, you can't have a rainbow without rain, and sunshine all the time makes a desert." Bilbo thought she made a fair point, but it did not change the fact that they were all suffering miserably at the moment. He would not be at all surprised to find that the rain had gotten into their dry clothes and into the food-bags.

"Here, Mr. Gandalf, can't you do something about this deluge?" asked Dori.

"It is raining, Master Dwarf, "said Gandalf, "and it will continue to rain until the rain is done. If you wish to change the weather of the world you should find yourself another Wizard." Hannah was quite right. It was rained because it was necessary.

"Are there any?" asked Bilbo.

"What?" asked Gandalf.

"Other wizards." Said Bilbo.

"There are five of us. The greatest of our order is Saruman the White." Answered Gandalf. "Then there are the two Blue Wizards… Do you know, I've quite forgotten their names."

"And who is the fifth?" asked Bilbo.

"That would be Mr. Radagast, yes?" said Hannah.

"Yes." said Gandalf. "Radagast the Brown."

"Is he a great wizard? Or is he more like you?" asked Bilbo. Hannah had to suppress a smile as Gandalf glanced back in their direction with a rather unamused expression on his face. If only Bilbo knew…

"I think he's a very great Wizard, in his own way." Said Gandalf. "He's a gentle soul who prefers the company of animals to others. He keeps a watchful eye over the vast forest-lands to the east; and a good thing too. For always evil will look to find a foothold in this world."

And so the company jogged on in the rain until it finally exhausted itself. Eventually they came upon the remains of a dilapidated and abandoned house that was close to the road.

"We shall camp here for the night." said Thorin, halting the company. "Fili, Kili, look after the ponies. Make sure you stay with them. Óin, Glóin, get a fire going." While Thorin issued his orders Gandalf dismounted and moved to investigate the ruins.

"What is it?" Hannah asked as she followed. He looked troubled by what he saw.

"A farmer and his family used to live here." Said Gandalf. This was not a good sign. The door had clearly been ripped off the hinges by something very large and strong. "I think it would be wiser to move on. We could make for the Hidden Valley."

"I have told you already I will not go near that place." Said Thorin.

"Why not? The Elves could help us." Said Gandalf. "We could get food, rest, advice."

"I do not need their advice." Thorin said stubbornly.

"What about that map you can't read?" asked Hannah. The Dwarf shot her a sharp look. Hannah coolly looked away, pretending to be interested in the dirt under her fingernails of which, come to think of it, there was much more of than she had realized. Honestly, she didn't know why Thorin was so set against Lord Elrond. From what she had heard of their history, the charitable elf-lord had nothing to do with the tragedy that had befallen his people. Their failed alliance had been made with a completely different elf-ruler at the time.

"Just because it isn't what you want to hear does not mean she is wrong." Gandalf said in defense of his apprentice. "Lord Elrond could help us."

"Help?" Thorin scoffed. "A dragon attacks Erebor. What help came from the Elves? Orcs plunder Moria, desecrate our sacred halls. The Elves looked on and did nothing. You ask me to seek out the very people who betrayed my grandfather? Who betrayed my father?"

"You are neither of them." Said Gandalf. "I did not give you that map and key to hold on to the past."

"I did not know that they were yours to keep." Retorted Thorin. The Wizard's eye twitched almost imperceptibly. He let out a sigh of frustration and shook his head at the Dwarf. That was it. He'd had enough.

"Mr. Gandalf?" Hannah said, furrowing her brow as he swiftly turned on his heel.

"Stay here, and keep an eye on them—make sure they don't do anything stupid!" Gandalf ordered sharply, though he knew it was not her that he was really upset with.

"Everything all right? Gandalf, where are you going?" Bilbo asked worriedly as he stalked past him and the rest of the Dwarves by the ponies.

"To seek the company of the only one around here who's got any sense." Growled Gandalf.

"And who's that?" asked Bilbo.

"Myself, Mr. Baggins!" the wizard snapped as he stomped off. "I've had enough of Dwarves for one day." Hannah let out a sigh as she watched him go. Her mentor was normally a very reasonable man, but once you got him riled up he could have quite a temper.

"Come on, Bombur, we're hungry." Said Thorin moodily. "Where shall we get a dry patch to sleep on?"

"Is he coming back?" Bilbo asked, concerned.

"Of course." Answered Hannah. "Eventually."

The answer to Thorin's last question was: nowhere. It was a bad wet evening after all that rain. They moved to a clump of trees, and though it was drier under them, the wind shook the rain off the leaves, and the _drip, drip_, was most annoying. Also the mischief seemed to have got into the fire. Dwarves can make a fire almost anywhere out of almost anything, wind or no wind; but they could not do it that night, not even Óin and Glóin, who were especially good at it.

"Gandalf has been gone a long time." Said Bilbo worriedly, pacing. The sun had set some time ago, and it was already well into the night.

"He's a wizard! He does what he chooses." Said Bofur.

"Can't you do something about this?" Fili asked Hannah, referring to the fire.

"I can't make wet wood hold a flame." She answered honestly.

"Then what good are you?" demanded Thorin. She was just about to remind him that they were equally useless in this situation, when one of the ponies took fright at nothing and bolted. He got into the river before they could catch him; and before they could get him out again, Fili and Kili were nearly drowned, and all the baggage that he carried was washed away off him. Of course it was mostly food, and there was mighty little left for supper, and less for breakfast. They all sat there glum and wet and muttering, while Óin and Glóin went on trying to light the fire, and quarreling about it.

Bilbo was sadly reflecting that adventures are not all pony-rides in the May-sunshine, when Balin, who was always their look-out man, said: "There's a light over there!" There was a hill some way off with trees on it, pretty thick in parts. Out of the dark mass of trees they could now see a light shining, a reddish comfortable-looking light, as if it might be a fire or torches twinkling.  
When they had looked at for some while, they fell to arguing. Some said 'no' and some said 'yes'. Some said they could but go and see, and anything was better than little supper, less breakfast, and wet clothes all the night.  
Others said: "These parts are none too well known, and are too near the mountains. Travellers seldom come this way now. The old maps are no use: things have changed for the worse and the road is unguarded. They have seldom ever heard of the king round here, and the less inquisitive you are as you go along, the less trouble you are likely to find." With this group Hannah agreed. She could endure a night of hunger and wet clothing, and would much rather do so and wait to explore in the safety of daylight than take such an unnecessary risk now. But not everyone agreed, and the arguing continued.  
Some said: "After all there are fifteen of us."  
Others said: "Where has Gandalf got to?" This remark was repeated by everybody. Then the rain began to pour down worse than ever, and Óin and Glóin began to fight.  
That settled it for the Dwarves. "After all we have got a burglar with us," they said; and so they made off, leading their ponies (with all due and proper caution) in the direction of the light. Hannah trailed behind with great reluctance. Her misgivings about this plan only grew as they drew closer; but as Gandalf had asked her to keep an eye on them, she felt she had little choice but to follow. They came to the hill and were soon in the wood. Up the hill they went; but there was no proper path to be seen, such as might lead to another house or farm; and in the process they made a good deal of rustling and crackling and creaking (and a good deal of grumbling and dratting), as they went through the trees in the pitch dark. Hannah's skirt got caught on something, and as she fumbled about to free it, she became aware that she was touching a freshly uprooted tree. Remembering the state of the old farmhouse's door, the bad feeling in the pit of Hannah's stomach grew.  
Suddenly the red light shone out very bright through the tree-trunks not far ahead.

"Now it's the burglar's turn." Said Thorin, meaning Bilbo. "Go and find out all about the light, and what it's for, and if all is perfectly safe and canny."

"Wait!" said Hannah urgently, careful to keep her voice low. "You remember how Gandalf asked me make sure you all didn't do anything stupid, well, I'm pretty sure this qualifies. I really think we should leave. Now." Thorin fixed her with a sharp glare.

"_I_ am the leader of this company." He said in a tone that would brook no challenge. Hannah frowned and bit her lip in annoyance. "Now scuttle off," he told the hobbit, "and come back quick, if all is well. If not, come back if you can. If you can't hoot twice like a barn-owl and once like screech-owl, and we'll do what we can." With that the Dwarves gave poor Bilbo a shove, and off he had to go before he could explain that could not hoot even once like any kind of owl any more than he could fly like a bat. But at any rate hobbits can move quietly in woods, absolutely quietly. They take a pride in it, and Bilbo had sniffed more than once at what he called 'all this dwarvish racket,' as they went along, though I don't suppose you or I would notice anything at all on a windy night, not if the whole cavalcade had passed two feet off. As for Bilbo walking primly towards the red light, I don't suppose even a weasel would have stirred a whisker at it. So, naturally, he got right up to the fire—for fire it was—without disturbing anyone.

After a while, Hannah and the Dwarves could hear noises from a distance in the direction they had sent Bilbo, and after waiting some time for the hobbit to come back, or to hoot like an owl, Hannah moved to do something about it.

"You stay here." Said Thorin, stopping her. "We don't need two to rescue." Hannah frowned at this, but decided to stay put as she knew herself that she wasn't much of a fighter. She watched silently as the Dwarves started off one by one to creep towards the light as quietly as they could. Soon Hannah was all alone with the ponies, and she could hear the sounds of the commotion up ahead growing even fiercer. And then it was suddenly quiet again. She waited a spell, but neither Bilbo or the Dwarves came back. Hannah frowned with worry, and assumed the worst.  
Quickly and quietly she whispered to her pony in Elvish and let it fly. Then she crept forward towards the light with as much stealth as she could muster. The closer she got the more she could hear, and she gathered from the argument taking place that the Dwarves had all been caught and were about to be eaten. Her eyes widened when she was close enough to see what their captors looked like. Trolls. They had all waked right into a troll's camp. Hannah swallowed the nervous lump forming in her throat. Fortunately they were far too busy arguing how to go about cooking everyone else to notice her, so Hannah quickly and silently slipped back in to the cover of the brush. She didn't know much about trolls, but she knew better than to try to take them on directly all on her own (especially after a group of _thirteen_ Dwarves had failed), and was trying to come up with a clever plan to save everyone. The trolls had just decided to roast the Dwarves now and eat them later—that was the idea of the one the others called Bert—when the one named William said something quite damning.

"Never mind the seasoning, we ain't got all night." He said. "Dawn ain't far away, let's get a move on. I don't fancy being turned to stone." This gave Hannah an idea, one Bilbo seemed to have caught on to as well.

"Wait!" The hobbit said bravely, standing up in his sack. "You are making a terrible mistake."

"You can't reason with them. They're half-wits!" shouted several of the Dwarves who were being turned on the spit.

"Half-wits? What does that make us?" asked Bofur. Hannah thought he made a fair point.

"I meant with the, uh, seasoning." Said Bilbo. That got the trolls' attention.

"What about the seasoning?" asked Bert.

"Well, have you smelt them?" Bilbo asked. "You're going to need something stronger than sage before you plate this lot up."

"Traitor!" shouted Bombur.

"What do you know about cooking Dwarf?" asked Tom.

"Shut up! Let the flurgaburburhobbit talk." Said Bert.

"Ah, the secret to cooking Dwarf is, um…" said Bilbo, starting to flounder. He hadn't really expected to get this far.

"Yes? Come on. Tell us the secret." Said Bert.

"It's, uh… The secret is… to skin them first." answered Bilbo. There was a very understandable uproar from the Dwarves upon hearing that.

"Tom, get me filleting knife." Said Bert.

"I'll skin you, you little—!" Glóin yelled angrily at the hobbit.

"I won't forget that! I won't forget that!" said Dwalin.

"What a load of rubbish." Said Tom. "I've eaten plenty with their skins on. Scarf 'em I say, boots and all."

"No good roasting 'em now, it'd take all night." Said a deep voice. Bert thought it was William's. Of course it was really just Hannah doing a bit of ventriloquism.

"Don't start the argument all over again, Bill," he said, "or it _will_ take all night."

"Who's a-arguing?" said William, who thought it was one of the others who had spoken. He had been sitting quietly by the fire the whole time.

"You are." Said Tom.

"You're a liar!" said William; and so the whole argument began all over again. In the end they decided to mince them fine and boil them. So the trolls got a black pot, and took out their knives.

"Uh…" Bilbo said nervously, when the voice intervened again.

"No good boiling 'em! We ain't got no water, and it's a long way to the well and all." Hannah said. Bert and William thought it was Tom's.

"Shut up!" they said. "Or we'll have done. And you can fetch the water yerself, if yer say any more."

"Shut up yerself!" said Tom, who thought it was William's voice. "Who's arguing but you, I'd like to know. Anyway, if boiling 'em's so much trouble, why not just eat 'em raw!"

"He's right." said William. "Nothing wrong with a bit of raw Dwarf. Nice and crunchy!" With that he reached down and grabbed Bombur, ready to dig in. Hannah panicked and fumbled for the right words to save him.

"N-Not that one! He's infected!" said Bilbo quickly.

"Huh?" said William, so startled he stopped an inch short of taking a bite out of the plump Dwarf.

"You what?" asked Tom.

'Nice one, Bilbo!' thought Hannah.

"Yeah, he's got, uh, worms in his… tubes." Said Bilbo.

'In his what?' Hannah thought dubiously, but the trolls seemed to by it, because they all gave a cry of disgust, and William dropped Bombur faster than a sack of rotten potatoes.

"In fact, they all have." Continued Bilbo. "They're infested with parasites. It's a terrible business. I wouldn't risk it, I really wouldn't."

"Parasites? Did he say 'parasites'?" asked Óin.

"We don't have parasites." Protested Kili. "_You_ have parasites!" Hannah and Bilbo both groaned internally as the rest of the Dwarves began to join in. What were they thinking? Oh, that's right, they _weren't._ Fortunately, one of them actually was. After a moment, Thorin caught on and gave the others near him a kick.

"Ah!" they grunted in pain, glancing back at their leader in surprise. Seeing the look on his face, it slowly dawned on them.

"… I've got parasites as big as my arm." Said Óin.

"Mine are the biggest parasites. I've got huge parasites!" said Kili, and soon they were all arguing about who was the worst off, trying to make themselves sound as unappetizing as possible.

"We're riddled!" said Fili and several of the other dwarves on the spit.

"Yes, I'm riddled." Said Ori.

"Yes, we are, badly." Said Dori.

"What would you have us do then? Let them all go?" Tom asked Bilbo.

"Well…" said Bilbo.

"You think I don't know what you're up to?" Tom said crossly, giving the hobbit a push with a couple of his large fingers. "This little ferret is taking us for fools."

"Ferret?" said Bilbo, clearly insulted.

"Fools?" asked Bert.

"Anyone would take you for one." Mimicked Hannah, instigating another argument amongst the trolls before they could turn on Bilbo.

"The dawn will take you all!" said another voice, but it wasn't Hannah or any of the trolls. For just at that moment the light came over the hill, and there was a mighty twitter in the branches as Gandalf raised his staff and split the enormous stone on the ridge above that he was standing on asunder, bathing the trolls in the morning light. They barely even had time to utter a groan, for all three of them turned to stone within seconds of exposure. Everyone let out a great cheer of excitement and relief.

"Excellent!" said Gandalf as he climbed down to check on them. Hannah's white pony stepped out from behind a tree and went trotting over to meet her as she stepped out into the open.

"Good girl, Daisy." Hannah praised her clever pony as it returned to her side, petting it affectionately. Then Bilbo understood and realized that it was Hannah's disguised voice that had perpetuated the trolls' arguments and helped him buy time, until Gandalf could arrive and help the sunlight find them.

"Where did you go off to, if I may ask?" Thorin asked the wizard once they were sure everyone was safe and accounted for.

"To look ahead." Answered Gandalf.

"What brought you back?" asked Thorin.

"Looking behind." Said the wizard. That, and Daisy, whom Hannah had sent to fetch him. "Nasty business. Still, they're all in one piece."

"No thanks to your burglar or apprentice." Said Thorin.

"They had the nous to play for time. None of the rest of you thought of that." Gandalf reminded him. Thorin said nothing, but looked properly abashed. "They must have come down from the Ettenmoors." The wizard said, glancing at the stone trolls.

"Since when do trolls venture this far south?" asked Thorin.

"Oh, not for an age." Said Gandalf. "Not since a darker power ruled these lands."

"Um, excuse me." Hannah said, getting her mentor's attention. "But if sunlight turns them to stone, then how did they get here? They couldn't have moved in daylight, right?"

"No, the trolls must have a cave or a hole dug somewhere nearby." Said Gandalf. "We must look into it."

They searched about, and soon found the marks of the trolls' large feet going away through the trees. They followed the tracks up the hill until they came upon the open mouth of a cave hidden by bushes.

"Oh, what's that stench?" asked Dori as they all followed Gandalf and Thorin inside. Bilbo and several of the other Dwarves coughed and gagged when it hit them. Hannah had to hold her nose. Her eyes were watering. What she wouldn't give for a gas mask!

"What do you expect? It's a troll-hoard." Said Gandalf. "Be careful what you touch." There were bones on the floor and the nasty smell in the air was almost unbearable; but there was a good deal of food jumbled carelessly on the shelves and on the ground, among an untidy litter of plunder, which contained all sorts of odds and ends from brass buttons to pots full of gold coins standing in the corner.

"Seems a shame to just leave it lying around." Said Bofur as he and several of the others stopped to admire the treasure. "Anyone could take it."

"Agreed." Said Glóin. "Nori, get a shovel."

There were lots of clothes, too, hanging on the walls—too small for trolls, so they must have belonged to their victims—and among them were several swords of various makes, shapes, and sizes. Two caught their eyes particularly because of their expert craftsmanship and beauty. Gandalf and Thorin each took one of these; and Hannah took a knife in a leather sheath. It would have made only a tiny pocket-knife for a troll, but in her hands the dagger seemed rather long. She gripped the handle and decided it would suit her much better than a sword—which she had not yet been trained to use—and would hang nicely from her belt for use in the event she ran out of arrows. She had a feeling she would have to use them before long.

"These swords were not made by any troll." She heard Thorin say as he handed one of the long blades to Gandalf.

"Nor were they made by any smith among Men." Said the wizard, half drawing the one in his hand and looking at it closely. "Not in these parts and days; but when we can read the runes on them, we shall know more about them."

"Let's get out of this foul place." Said Thorin, sheathing his new blade. As Gandalf moved to follow him out, he heard a _clink_ and realized he had stepped on a small blade that had been lying buried just under a thin layer of dirt and dead leaves. He finished unearthing it and found that it would make a very good blade for a hobbit.

"Bilbo." Gandalf said, getting the burglar's attention. "Here. This is about your size." He said, handing it to him, while Hannah and the Dwarves were deciding what else was worth hauling out.

"I can't take this." He said.

"The blade is of Elvish make," said Gandalf, "which means it will glow blue when Orcs or Goblins are nearby."

"I have never used a sword in my life." Bilbo said, lowering his voice so the Dwarves wouldn't hear.

"And I hope you never have to." Said Gandalf. "But if you do, remember this: true courage is about knowing not when to take a life, but when to spare one." Bilbo stared down at the sword in his hand and nodded after a time, deciding to accept it; and he and Gandalf rejoined the others.

And so they carried out the pots of coins, and such food as was untouched and looked fit to eat, also one barrel of ale which was still full. By that time they felt like breakfast, and being very hungry they did not turn their noses up at what they had got from the trolls' larder. Their own provisions were very scanty. Now they had bread and cheese, and plenty of ale, and bacon to toast in the embers of the fire.  
After that they slept, for their night had been most disturbed; and they did nothing more till the afternoon. Then they brought up their ponies, and carried away the pots of gold, and buried them very secretly not far from the track by the river, just in case they ever had the chance to come back and recover them.

"We're making a long-term deposit." Glóin had answered when Hannah asked what they were up to.

When that was done, they all mounted once more, and jogged along again on the path towards the East.

"By the way, Hannah," said Gandalf as they were riding. "I seem to recall asking you to keep the others _out _of trouble…"

"And I seem to recall your exact words being: 'keep an eye on them—make sure they don't do anything stupid'. And I think it was rather unfair of you to ask something of me that you couldn't do yourself." She replied, earning herself a look. The hint of a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "But as my Zayde used to say: 'Against stupidity; God himself is helpless'." At that Gandalf also cracked a smile.

"Yet another shining pearl of wisdom!" He said with a chuckle. The more he heard about her Jewish grandfather, the more Gandalf wanted to meet him.


	6. Chapter 6

**Previous:**

_When that was done, they all mounted once more, and jogged along again on the path towards the East._

_"By the way, Hannah," said Gandalf as they were riding. "I seem to recall asking you to keep the others out of trouble…"_

_"And I seem to recall your exact words being: 'keep an eye on them—make sure they don't do anything stupid'. And I think it was rather unfair of you to ask something of me that you couldn't do yourself." She replied, earning herself a look. The hint of a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "But as my Zayde used to say: 'Against stupidity; God himself is helpless'." At that Gandalf also cracked a smile._

_"Yet another shining pearl of wisdom!" He said with a chuckle. The more he heard about her Jewish grandfather, the more Gandalf wanted to meet him._

* * *

**Chapter 6: The Run to Rivendell**

* * *

They did not sing or tell stories that day, even though the weather improved; nor the next day after. They had begun to feel that danger was not far away on either side. They camped under the stars, and their horses had more to eat than they had; for there was plenty of grass, but there was not much in their bags, even with that which they had got from the trolls. One morning they forded a river at a wide shallow place full of the noise of stones and foam. The far bank was steep and slippery. When they got to the top of it, leading their ponies, they saw that the great mountains had marched down very near to them. Already they seemed only a day's easy journey from the feet of the nearest. Dark and drear it looked, though there were patches of sunlight on its brown sides, and behind its shoulders the tips of snow-peaks gleamed.

"Is that _The_ Mountain?" asked Bilbo in a solemn voice, looking at it with round eyes. He had never seen a thing that looked so big before.

"Of course not!" said Balin. "That's only the beginning of the Misty Mountains, and we have to get through, or over, or under those somehow, before we can come into Wilderland beyond. And it's a deal of a way even from the other side of them to the Lonely Mountain in the East where Smaug lies on our treasures."

"Oh." Said Bilbo, and just at that moment he felt more tired than he ever remembered feeling before. He was thinking once again of his confortable chair before the fire in his favorite sitting-room in his hobbit-hole, and of the kettle singing. Not for the last time!  
"Something's coming!" cried Thorin just as they were about to remount their ponies. They were all quite startled when a blur of brown came suddenly flying at them with great speed.

"Hurry now! Arm yourselves!" said Gandalf.

"Thieves! Fire! Murder!" a voice that was familiar to the wizard and Hannah cried as the brown blur skidded to a halt in front of them, and they could now see its true form was a little old man in a brown hat and brown robes on a sled pulled by a team of large rabbits.

"Radagast." Said Gandalf, relieved. "It's Radagast the Brown."

"Hello, Mr. Radagast." Hannah greeted him.

"Oh, hello, Hannah!" said Radagast, visibly brightening despite the anxious rantings he had been spouting only a moment ago.

"Well, what on earth are you doing here?" Gandalf asked, surprised to see him there since he was supposed to be keeping a watchful eye on Dol Guldur.

"I was looking for you, Gandalf. Something's wrong. Something's terribly wrong." Radagast replied, adopting an urgent mien once again.

"Yes?" asked Gandalf.

Radagast opened his mouth to speak then paused. "Oh." He said as he was ready, but then suddenly looked uncertain again. "Just give me a minute. Oh, I had a thought and now I've lost it. I-It was right there on the tip of my tongue. Oh. It's not a thought at all. It's a silly old… stick insect." He said when he felt something move inside his mouth and stuck out his tongue so Gandalf could remove it for him, rescuing the poor thing. Both Hannah's eyebrows went up at that, while Bilbo's went down as he made a face that clearly said he was beginning to question whether the Brown Wizard was right in the head.

"Is he always like that?" Bilbo asked as the wizards began to whisper amongst themselves and moved a bit further away from the company to continue their conversation.  
"Mostly." Hannah answered honestly. "He's a bit odd, but he's a good egg. He can seem a bit childlike at times, but he's very selfless and brave, when the need arises."

"The Greenwood is sick, Gandalf." Said Radagast urgently. "A darkness has fallen over it. Nothing grows anymore; at least, nothing good. The woodsmen who live near now call it Mirkwood. The air is foul with decay. But worse are the webs."

"Webs? What do you mean?" asked Gandalf.

"Spiders, Gandalf." Said Radagast grimly. "Giant ones. Some kind of spawn of Ungoliant, or I am not a Wizard. I followed their trail. They came from Dol Guldur."

"Dol Guldur?" said Gandalf, troubled by the implication. He knew already that the old fortress was not as abandoned as the Enemy would have them believe, but the idea of such dark and dangerous creatures allying with Sauron was troubling.

Everyone started when they heard an uncanny _howl_ and saw two beasts approaching fast from the distance.

"Wolves?" said Bilbo nervously as he glanced in the direction from which it had come.  
"Wolves? No, those are not wolves." Bofur answered with a trembling voice as they Dwarves all gave a cry of alarm.  
Kili and Hannah quickly drew their bows and fired, each targeting one of the creatures. One arrow was not enough to take either down. In fact it only seemed to make things worse, for the beasts flew forward in a rage. Hannah quickly fired two more arrows, one through each of its eyes. The arrows pierced deep, all the way to the fletching, and the warg fell dead. Kili attempted to do the same, but his target was too quick. The beast lunged forward, and they all quickly dodged to the side, except Thorin. He met the beast with his blade and cut it down with a mighty blow.

"Warg scouts!" He said grimly "Which means an orc pack is not far behind."

"Orc pack?" asked Bilbo.

"Who did you tell about your quest, beyond your kin?" asked Gandalf.

"No one." Answered Thorin.

"Who did you tell?" the wizard demanded sternly.

"No one, I swear." Said Thorin earnestly. "What in Durin's name is going on?"

"You're being hunted." Gandalf replied grimly.

"Hunted?" said Hannah, startled. Had the enemy discovered them already?

"We have to get out of here." Said Dwalin urgently.

"We can't! We have no ponies!" cried Ori. It was true, in the midst of the attack their rides had all panicked and run off without them; even Gandalf's horse and Daisy had bolted.

"I'll draw them off." Said Radagast.

"These are Gundabad Wargs." Said Gandalf. "They will outrun you."

"These are Rhosgobel rabbits." Said Radagast. "I'd like to see them try." With more howls sounding over the horizon there was no time to argue. They had to take action now.

"Come and get me! Ha, ha!" laughed Radagast as he led the Orcs and their Wargs away from the great rock the others were hiding behind, drawing them well off the company's scent.

"Come on." Said Gandalf urgently once the coast was relatively clear, leading them on. While Radagast continued to distract the Orc pack, they crept hurriedly amongst the outcroppings of stone jutting out from the bleak and otherwise flat landscape. Hannah was worried about Radagast and his rabbits, but she made sure to focus on keeping up with the others. "Stay together." Whispered Gandalf as the ongoing chase briefly cut in front of them a little too close for comfort. "Move!" He urged them once they had turned away. They ran with all their might to the next outcrop.

"Ori, no! Get back!" cried Thorin, grabbing the young Dwarf when his momentum almost threw him out into view of the Orcs and pulling him back to safety.

"All of you, come on. Quick!" said Gandalf, herding them on.

"Where are you leading us?" asked Thorin. Gandalf offered no reply other than to keep moving. But they could not fool the noses of the Gundabad Wargs forever. One of them caught a whiff of their scent, and he and his rider separated from the pack to investigate. The company quickly and quietly pressed themselves flat up against another outcrop when they heard a low and dangerous _growl_. It was coming from above.  
Thorin looked at Kili and nodded for him to take action. Kili took a breath, drew an arrow, and rushed out into a more favorable to shoot the beast. The Warg let out a cry when it was struck, and Kili fired another arrow and hit the rider in the leg as the beast fell. But the Warg was not dead, and it let out a terrible screech of pain as it hit the ground. Hannah quickly fired two arrows through its eyes to silence it. The Orc lunged at them with a growl, and Dwalin and Bifur answered with their hammer and axe. Unfortunately this altercation did not go unnoticed by the rest of the hunting party, and a chorus of howls was heard as they charged towards the company's hiding place.

"Run!" yelled Gandalf, and they all made a mad dash for it.

"There they are!" shouted Glóin as the pack circled round.

"This way! Quickly!" said Gandalf, changing directions.

"There's more coming!" cried Kili.

"Kili! Shoot them!" shouted Thorin.

"Hannah!" said Gandalf urgently. Both archers quickly drew their bows and fired. Ori tried to help using his slingshot. Gandalf whipped his head around, searching frantically. He needed to find the right path, or they would all be done for! And then, he spotted it.

"We're surrounded!" yelled Fili. They all backed up to close their ranks.

"Where's Gandalf?" Dori cried upon realizing the wizard was nowhere to be seen.

"He's abandoned us!" said Dwalin. Hannah knew that couldn't be true.

"Look again!" she said.

"Hold your ground!" Thorin ordered.

"This way, you fools!" Gandalf shouted suddenly, poking his head out between two stones, before disappearing again.

"Come on, move! Quickly, all of you!" said Thorin. Hannah did not need to be told twice. One by one they all quickly slid down after the wizard. "Kili, run!" Thorin yelled when he realized the young Dwarf was still trying to hold of the Wargs. Kili quickly turned and ran and followed his uncle down the hole just as they heard the clear ringing of horn sound in the valley above. They all immediately scrambled back as the body of an orc came tumbling down through the opening above, but to their relief, they found that it had already been struck dead by an arrow. Thorin pulled it out to examine it.

"Elves." He said, as if it were a curse, throwing the arrow back down. Gandalf and Hannah both shared a look. Would it kill him to show a little gratitude? Whether by intention or not, those Elves had clearly just saved them. Personally, Hannah was very relieved to be out of immediate danger, and she knew the presence of the Elves would help ensure that Radagast would be able to safely slip away and return to his forest unharmed.

"I cannot see where the pathway leads." Said Dwalin, who had ventured further ahead. "Do we follow it or no?"

"Follow it, of course!" said Bofur. They certainly couldn't stay there.

"I think that would be wise." Said Gandalf, suppressing a small smile, as he shared a knowing look with Hannah. It was not difficult to guess where they were headed once you considered the direction they had been headed in before the Wargs showed up and the special fletching on the arrow they had found in the orc.

The company continued down the path, which soon became so narrow in some parts that many of them had to inch along sideways in order to be able to advance. There was a very touch and go moment when Bombur had trouble squeezing himself through, but he was able to just barely make it with a bit of help from those pushing behind. Eventually the reach the end of the path, which opened out near a small trickle of a waterfall onto a smooth path that overlooked a great valley riven by a great river far below. One the far side of the valley the light of the sun gleamed and glittered upon cascading silver falls and the elegantly shaped homes and halls built amongst them, surrounded by the green of rustling trees.

"The Valley of Imladris." Hannah said, smiling at the beautiful and familiar sight. She called it as the Elves did, but in the common tongue it was known by another name.

"Rivendell." Said Bilbo softly, gazing upon the Elf settlement with wonder.

"Here lies the Last Homely House East of the Sea." Said Gandalf.

"This was your plan all along." Thorin said accusingly, turning on the wizard. "To seek refuge with our enemy."

"You have no enemies here, Thorin Oakenshield." Said Gandalf. "The only ill will to be found in this valley is that which you bring yourself." Hannah couldn't agree more, but very wisely refrained from doing so out loud. Thorin was already in a foul enough mood as it was.

"You think the Elves will give our quest their blessing? They will try to stop us." He said.

"Of course they will." Answered Gandalf calmly. "But we have questions that need to be answered." Thorin sighed heavily in defeat, grudgingly realizing the wizard was right. "If we are to be successful, this will need to be handled with tact, and respect, and no small degree of charm." The wizard continued. "Which is why you will leave the talking to me."

So they followed Gandalf further into the Valley. He led them down the path around and over to a narrow stone bridge which would have been just wide enough for the ponies to cross in single file, had they still been with them. Hannah strode across confidently, sure in her footing and not at all daunted by the plunging depths below as she walked in front with Gandalf, but many of the Dwarves peered over the side warily, as if they did not trust the stone bridge to hold. As they walked Bilbo gazed with wonder at all the beauty about him. They halted before the grand stair leading up into the first wing of the main hall, on which two elven-guards were stationed.

"Mithrandir. Hannah." a dark-haired and fair-faced Elf of noble bearing called out in greeting as he descended the steps, though he was surprised to see the strange company they had brought with them.

"Ah, Lindir." Said Gandalf as he and Hannah stepped forth to meet him.

"Mr. Lindir." Hannah greeted the Elf respectfully and smiled.

"We heard you had crossed into the Valley." Said Lindir in Elvish.

"I must speak with Lord Elrond." Said Gandalf in the Common Tongue.

"My Lord Elrond is not here." Said Lindir.

"Not here? Where is he?" asked Gandalf. Almost as if in answer to the wizard's question, the same horn they had heard before sounded again behind them, and everyone turned to see a team of Elven riders galloping towards them. Gandalf's smile faltered slightly when he saw how swiftly they were approaching, and Bifur shouted in alarm.

"Close ranks!" ordered Thorin. The hunting party charged across the narrow bridge and circled round the Dwarves and Bilbo, who were all on edge with weapons raised, but Elrond paid them no mind.

"Gandalf! Hannah!" the elf-lord said with a smile, pleasantly surprised to find that his old friend and young ward had returned while he was out.

"Lord Elrond." Said Hannah with a bright smile, bowing with Gandalf as they greeted him. She had great affection and respect for the elf-lord, who, in her experience, was strong as a warrior, as wise as a Wizard, as venerable as a king, and as kind as summer.

_"Mellon-nin!"_ the wizard welcomed his old friend with gladness. "Where have you been?" he inquired in Elvish.

"We have been hunting a pack of Orcs that came up from the South." Answered Elrond in his own tongue as he dismounted. "We slew a number near the Hidden Pass." He paused to embrace Gandalf and Hannah each in greeting before continuing in the Common Tongue, handing the orc-blade in his hand to Lindir. "Strange for Orcs to come so close to our borders. Something or someone has drawn them near."

"Ah, that may have been us." Said Gandalf. Thorin stepped forward before the rest of his company.

"Welcome, Thorin son of Thráin." Elrond greeted the Dwarf with respect.

"I do not believe we have met." Said Thorin.

"You have your grandfather's bearing." Said Elrond. "I knew Thrór when he ruled under the Mountain."

"Indeed. He made no mention of you." Said Thorin with a surly manner. Hannah frowned at his rudeness. Would it kill him to at least pretend to be polite for a moment? Elrond bore a neutral expression as he very calmly replied to the unfriendly Dwarf in Elvish. Gandalf and Hannah smiled.

"What is he sayin'? Does he offer us insult?" asked Glóin, already offended despite having understood not a single word that was said, as were many of the other Dwarves.

"No, Master Glóin, he is offering you food." Explained Gandalf. The Dwarves turned and whispered amongst themselves.

"Ah, well… in that case, lead on." Said Glóin, trying not to appear too abashed after his mistake. Hannah caught the hint of a sly smile on Elrond's face and shared a smile of wry amusement with the elf-lord at the Dwarves' reaction as they proceeded to enter his home. Dwarves.

Being very tired and hungry the Dwarves and Bilbo were all for having a meal as soon as possible, but soon found themselves disappointed with the fare that had been presented to them, though it was no less than what Lord Elrond himself would have dined upon. Indeed the Lord of the House was set to join them as soon as he finished changing from his armor.

"Try it." Dori urged Ori. "Just a mouthful."

"I don't like green food." Said Ori with a shake of his head, pushing away the plate of salad.

"Where's the meat?" asked Dwalin, digging through the fresh greens in search of some real food.

"Have they got any chips?" Ori asked.

"Kind of you to invite us." Said Gandalf as he entered the dining hall with their host, who was now garbed in exactly the style of fine and elegant robes Bilbo would have expected of an elf-lord. The wizard, however, was still in the same rough grey robe that he had been wearing along. "Not really dressed for dinner."

"You never are." Said Elrond with a smile.

"Where's Hannah?" Bilbo asked Balin, who was seated beside him. The chair they had left open for her between himself and Fili was still empty.

"I don't know." said Balin. "I think she mentioned something about washing up first."

"Ah." Said Bilbo, nodding in understanding. Despite being just as hungry and tired as the others what Hannah had seemed to want most was a bath. In fact, he wouldn't mind one himself. All of the Dwarves could certainly use one.  
Kili winked at the lovely she-elf on the harp, who was part of the musical ensemble playing for their entertainment. He realized Dwalin had caught him, and that the older Dwarf was staring at him hard with an extremely unimpressed look on his face.

"I can't say I fancy elf-maids myself, too thin." Said Kili quickly. "They're all high cheekbones and creamy skin. Not enough facial hair for me." Bofur smiled in agreement, thinking of their uniquely beautiful strong and stocky dwarf-women. "Although that one there's not bad." Kili added, glancing at the elf that had just passed behind playing the lyre.

"That's not an elf-maid." Dwalin told him in a low voice. Kili looked again at the fair-faced male elf and then back at Dwalin with a look of confusion. Dwalin shook his head. Everyone laughed at the stunned expression on the young Dwarf's face.

"That's funny." Said Kili, chagrined to have made such an embarrassing mistake. As the flute-player moved closer, Óin stuffed his napkin into his hearing-horn and smiled in satisfaction once he could no longer hear the elegant music.  
Meanwhile, over at the dining table at which Elrond, Gandalf, and Thorin were seated, the elf-lord was examining the two swords they had found in the troll-hoard.

"These are old swords, very old swords of the High Elves of the West, my kin." Said Elrond. "They were made in Gondolin for the Goblin-wars of the First Age. They must gave come from a dragon's hoard or goblin plunder, for dragons and goblins destroyed that city many ages ago. This, Thorin, is Orcrist, the Goblin-cleaver; it was a famous blade. May it serve you well." With that he returned the respected blade to the Dwarf, who bowed his head slightly as he accepted it. Although he was usually hesitant to have anything to do with Elves, he had already examined the blade in detail for himself, and could find no fault with its craftsmanship. It was a fine blade beyond the highest quality of any he had ever seen before, even those once made in Erebor. "And this is Glamdring," said Elrond, drawing Gandalf's sword; "Foe-hammer, once worn by the king of Gondolin."

Bilbo glanced down curiously at his short sword, wondering if he might ask Elrond about it.

"I wouldn't bother, laddie." Said Balin, guessing his thoughts. "Swords are named for the great deeds they do in war."

"What are you saying, my sword hasn't seen battle?" asked the hobbit.

"I'm not actually sure it is a sword." Said the Dwarf. "More of a letter-opener, really."

"How did you come by these?" Elrond asked Gandalf.

"We found them in a troll-hoard on the Great East Road," answered Gandalf; "shortly before we were ambushed by Orcs."

"And what were you doing on the Great East Road?" asked Elrond, though the look on in his eyes implied he had already guessed their company's purpose.

"Excuse me." Said Thorin abruptly as he pushed out his chair and walked away.

"Thirteen Dwarves and a Halfling. Strange traveling companions, Gandalf." Elrond remarked, taking a sip of wine from a crystal goblet.

"These are the descendants of the House of Durin. They're noble, decent folk." Said Gandalf, though as he spoke Nori tucked one of the silver saltshakers into his clothing. "And they're surprisingly cultured." Elrond watched as Bombur his face with so much bread that he could not even fully close his mouth to chew properly. "They've got a deep love of the Arts."

"Change the tune, why don't you?" Nori told the elf-maiden playing the harp. "I feel like I'm at a funeral."

"Did somebody die?" asked Óin.

"All right, lads. There's only one thing for it." said Bofur, hoping up on the table to sing.

_There is an inn—  
There's an inn, there's a merry old inn  
Beneath an old grey hill,  
And there they brew a beer so brown  
That the Man in the Moon himself came down  
One night to drink his fill. _

_Oh, the ostler has a tipsy cat  
That plays a five-stringed fiddle;  
And up and down he saws his bow,  
Now squeaking high, now purring low,  
Now sawing in the middle. _

_So the cat on his fiddle played hey-diddle-diddle,  
a jig that would wake the dead:  
He squeaked and sawed and he quickened the tune,  
While the landlord shook the Man in the Moon:  
'It's after three!' he said. _

The Dwarves gave a cheer, and the well-mannered Elves were somewhat startled when they began to cause a ruckus and toss their food about.

"Oy!" A familiar voice suddenly boomed incredulously, startling the merry Dwarves in their own turn. They whipped their heads round to see that Hannah had entered the dinning hall and was now arrayed in a deep-violet velvet gown that beautifully complimented her unusual eye-color. Her softly-brushed dark curls fell loosely about her shoulders, framing a fresh face that glowed in the aftermath of her bath. In her current state she might have easily been mistaken for a young elf-maid, if not for the horrified expression upon her face and the fire in her eyes. "What is this mishegas? Quit wasting food! You're acting like a bunch of chazzers! There are people praying for what you have right now, you yutzes." She scolded them sternly. Playing with food was one thing, but this…! Having grown up during the Great Slump, when times were hard and money was tight, followed by the Second Great War, when food was less hard to come by but strictly rationed, Hannah couldn't stand to see it wasted. There had been a brief but terrible period during which her father was not receiving any pay for his work at the hospital, and her Zayde's shop nearly went bankrupt from a lack of paying customers. They were lucky she didn't give them all a good beating.  
As the Dwarves and hobbit all stared at the seething girl, too stunned to know how to react to such an uncharacteristic outburst, Hannah realized what she had done and quickly straightened up.

"Please forgive me, Lord Elrond." She apologized for her sudden outburst. Her Yinglish always came out whenever her Irish temper flared. "I did not intend to shout."

"It's quite all right." Elrond reassured her, suppressing a small smile as Lindir breathed a sigh of relief obviously glad that she had stopped the Dwarves from wrecking the hall any further.

"What was that?" Dwalin asked as the first to recover. "Are you insulting our language with that fake Dwarvish gibberish?" He demanded as the other Dwarves also started to get riled up.

"No, Master Dwalin," said Gandalf, "those foreign words you heard were not an attempt at Dwarvish. Although it may sound similar, they belong entirely to the language of Hannah's forefathers; and she was simply upset to find you wasting to food so generously provided to you, because she knows what it is like to have to starve. And I would also like to ask you to refrain from doing so again in her presence." At this the Dwarves fell silent, and Hannah quietly took her seat next to Bilbo. She took several bites of food in the awkward silence before she began to sing:

_The Man in the Moon took another mug,  
And then rolled beneath his chair;  
And there he dozed and dreamed of ale,  
Till in the sky the stars were pale,  
and dawn was in the air. _

_The round Moon rolled behind the hill  
as the Sun raised up her head.  
She hardly believed her fiery eyes;  
For though it was day, to her surprise  
they all went back to bed! _

Hearing her pick up the song where they had left off, the Dwarves quickly perked up and joined in, though this time they were very careful not to throw any food.


	7. Chapter 7

**Previously:**

_"No, Master Dwalin," said Gandalf, "those foreign words you heard were not an attempt at Dwarvish. Although it may sound similar, they belong entirely to the language of Hannah's forefathers; and she was simply upset to find you wasting to food so generously provided to you, because she knows what it is like to have to starve. And I would also like to ask you to refrain from doing so again in her presence." At this the Dwarves fell silent, and Hannah quietly took her seat next to Bilbo. She took several bites of food in the awkward silence before she began to sing:_

_The Man in the Moon took another mug,  
And then rolled beneath his chair;  
And there he dozed and dreamed of ale,  
Till in the sky the stars were pale,  
and dawn was in the air. _

_The round Moon rolled behind the hill  
as the Sun raised up her head.  
She hardly believed her fiery eyes;  
For though it was day, to her surprise  
they all went back to bed! _

_Hearing her pick up the song where they had left off, the Dwarves quickly perked up and joined in, though this time they were very careful not to throw any food._

* * *

**Chapter 7: A Short Rest and Over Hill**

* * *

All of them grew refreshed and strong in a few days there. Their clothes were mended as well as their bruises, their tempers and their hopes. Elrond's house was perfect, whether you liked food, or sleep, or work, or story-telling, or singing, or just sitting and thinking best, or a pleasant mixture of them all. Or so Bilbo thought. He did not spend much time with the Dwarves, who he felt preferred their own company, so he was not aware of whether or not their initial opinion of the place had improved. Actually, the one he ended spending the most time with was Hannah, when she was not studying or tinkering with something. But when she was busy Bilbo found he had no problem at all with wandering the peaceful halls and gardens of Rivendell on his own. In fact, he quite enjoyed it.  
It was on one of these occasions that Bilbo had the chance to speak personally with their gracious host. He had paused on a balcony over-looking the Valley to admire the splendid view, when he found himself being joined by the elf-lord.

"Not with your companions?" said Elrond.

"Uh, no, I… I shan't be missed. The truth is that most of them don't think that I should be on this journey." Admitted Bilbo.

"Indeed? I have heard that Hobbits are very resilient." Said Elrond. Bilbo let out a small chuckle, thinking he must be joking, but looking up at the elf-lord's wise face he was surprised to find that he was being perfectly serious.

"Really?" Bilbo asked. Elrond nodded.

"I have also heard they are fond of the comforts of home." He added.

"And I've heard that it's unwise to seek the council of Elves, for they will answer with both 'yes' and 'no'." said Bilbo in reply. For a moment the hobbit was afraid he might have caused offense as the elf-lord stared down at him, but then a small smile formed on Elrond's face.

"You are very welcome to stay here, if that is your wish." He told Bilbo, placing a hand on the hobbit's shoulder as he turned and left just as silently and mysteriously as he had arrived.

Unfortunately for Lord Elrond, not all of his guests were so well mannered.

"The kitchen is under enormous stain," said Lindir as they walked together, conversing in Elvish; "we are almost out of wine. How much longer do you think they will be with us?"

"That has yet to be decided." Said Elrond. They both halted when they heard the sound of deep-throated laughter and caught sight of a rather disturbing scene. In one of their great fountains, out in the open where anyone might see, the Dwarves were swimming and roughhousing with each other, stark naked.

"Lord Elrond!" Hannah called, coming up behind the two Elves, carrying the watch she had been repairing for him. Her grandfather had taught her a bit about watchmaking, so she often put her skills to use for the Elves when asked.

"I've just finished… What are you doing, Mr. Lindir?" she asked, puzzled when she found the Elf's hands swiftly clamped over her eyes faster than you could say _knife_, sparring her the trauma of having to witness the sight of thirteen naked dwarf-men.

"I wonder…" He said, glancing at his Lord. This was starting to get ridiculous. Something had to be done.

"Is this a game?" asked Hannah curiously.

"Yes," said Elrond, taking the repaired watch from her hands. As usual, Hannah had done some very fine work. "It's called: _Don't look until Lindir tells you to._" And with that, Lindir began guiding her to a much safer area while still keeping her eyes covered. Elrond glanced down at the watch in his hand. It was time he had a talk with Gandalf.

Later that evening, Hannah was teaching Bilbo the names for some of the stars that the Elves had taught to her. She had just finished pointing out Eärendil when they heard Gandalf's voice below. They peered down over the railing of the balcony and saw that he was talking with Elrond in the courtyard below.

"Of course I was going to tell you." Said the wizard as they walked. "I was waiting for this very chance. And really, I-I think you can trust that I know what I am doing."

"Do you?" asked Elrond. "That Dragon has slept for sixty years. What will happen if your plan should fail? If you wake the beast?"

"What if we succeed?" countered Gandalf. "If the Dwarves take back the Mountain, our defenses in the East will be strengthened. "

"It is a dangerous move, Gandalf." Said Elrond.

"It is also dangerous to do nothing." Argued Gandalf. "Oh, come. With or without our help, these Dwarves will march on the Mountain. They are determined to reclaim their homeland. The throne of Erebor is Thorin's birthright. What is it you fear?" Hannah and Bilbo suddenly became aware that they were not alone. Thorin had come up from behind and now stood with them, listening.

"Have you forgotten? A strain of madness runs deep in that family." Elrond reminded him. "His grandfather lost his mind. His father succumbed to the same sickness. Can you swear Thorin Oakenshield will not also fall?" Bilbo and Thorin watched as Hannah quietly began to slip down the stairs, wondering where she thought she was going. "Gandalf, these decisions do not rest with us alone. It is not up to you or me to redraw the map of Middle-earth."

"If you don't redraw it, then someone else will." Hannah said gravely as she joined the wizard and the elf-lord. Gandalf and Elrond both looked at her in surprise. "Lord Elrond, when I first came here, I told you about what happened to my home. Do you remember? We were in a similar situation. We did nothing because we were afraid, and look where it got us. Do you want the same thing to happen here?_ Please_, let us do something. Before it's too late." Elrond was silent and grim as he regarded her.

"Very well." He said at length, turning back to Gandalf. "As you have said, the Dwarves will go with or without our help. If that is indeed the case, I may as well give you what aide I can." He would give them until August. After that Elrond felt he would have to bring their quest to the attention of the White Council during their meeting, and there the next move would be decided.

"Oh, well, in that case..." said Gandalf, turning his gaze up towards the Dwarf and the Hobbit on the landing above. "There is something in particular that I was hoping you might be able to help us with."

Although they had somehow managed to convince Elrond to help them, Thorin was now acting more difficult than ever after overhearing the elf-lord's opinion on the history of his family's mental health.

"Our business is of no concern of the Elves." Said Thorin as he stood in Elrond's study with everyone who had been present for the conversation in the courtyard and Balin.

"For goodness sake, Thorin, show him the map." Said Gandalf gruffly, starting to get impatient.

"It is the legacy of my people." Said Thorin stubbornly. "It is mine to protect. As are its secrets."

'Yes, so secret you don't even know what they are.' Thought Hannah. She thought it was understandable for him to be upset this time; but she also thought expressing it by withholding the map was a pointless act of defiance, as useful as the 'g' in lasagna.

"Save me from the stubbornness of Dwarves!" Said Gandalf. "Your pride will be your downfall. You stand here in the presence of one of the few in Middle-earth who can read that map. Show it to Lord Elrond." Thorin was silent for a long moment. Slowly, he withdrew the map from his coat and handed it over.

"Thorin, no." said Balin, still hesitant to let a stranger look at it. But it was already in Elrond's hands. The elf-lord carefully unfolded the map and studied it closely.

"We think it may contain hidden text." Said Gandalf. "You still read ancient Dwarvish, do you not?" As Elrond stepped into the light of a moonbeam streaming into the room, he paused when something caught his eye.

"Cirth-ithil." He said upon taking a closer look, holding the map up in the light.

"Moon-runes?" asked Hannah, furrowing her brow slightly as she did a quick rough translation in her head.

"Ah, of course." said Gandalf. "An easy thing to miss."

"Well, in this case that is true. Moon-runes are rune-letters, but you cannot see them when you look straight at them. They can only be seen when the moon shines behind them." Said Elrond, explaining for Hannah. "And what's more, with the more cunning sort, such as these, it must be a moon of the same shape and season as the day on which they were written."

"Can you read them?" asked Thorin.

Elrond led them to a special crystal he used for such purposes. It was large and stood erect with the top slice clean off and polished flat and smooth so that it could be used as a podium to read at.

"These runes were written on a midsummer's eve by the light of a crescent moon nearly two hundred years ago." Elrond said as he laid the map upon the crystal. "It would seem you were meant to come to Rivendell. Fate is with you, Thorin Oakenshield. The same moon shines upon us tonight." The cloud that had been covering the silver sliver hanging in the night sky soon passed, and the light that shined down in the Valley was refracted within the crystal to shine much stronger and brighter through the thick parchment, so that the moon-runes glowed sharp and clear upon the map. "Stand by the grey stone when the thrush knocks," read Elrond, "and the setting sun with the last light of Durin's Day will shine upon the key-hole."

"Durin's day?" asked Bilbo and Hannah together.

"It is the start of the Dwarves' New Year." Said Gandalf. "When the last moon of autumn and the first sun of winter appear in the sky together."

"This is ill news." Said Thorin grimly. "Summer is passing. Durin's Day will soon be upon us."

"We still have time." Said Balin.

"Time for what?" asked Bilbo.

"To find the door." Answered Balin. "We have to be standing in exactly the right spot at exactly the right time. Then, and only then, can the door be opened."

"Well, then," said Hannah, "it sounds as though we haven't a moment to lose."

"Gandalf." Elrond said, holding the wizard back while the others left to inform the rest of Thorin's company of what they had just learned. "Why involve Hannah in this? Why the Hobbit?"

"I do not know. Saruman believes that it is only great power that can hold evil in check. But that is not what I have found. I have found it is the small things, everyday deeds of ordinary folk, that keeps the darkness at bay; simple acts of kindness and love." Said Gandalf thoughtfully. "Why Hannah Hayes and Bilbo Baggins? Perhaps it is because I am afraid. And they give me courage."

The company prepared to depart the very next day. It was a midsummer's morning as and fresh as could be dreamed: blue sky and never a cloud, and the sun dancing on the water. Their bags were filled with food and provisions light to carry but strong to bring them over the mountain passes. Their plans were improved with the best advice. And they were provided with new ponies.  
Now they rode away amid songs of farewell and good speed, with their hearts ready for more adventure, despite the danger that awaited, and with knowledge of the road they must follow over the Misty Mountains to the land beyond.

There were many paths that led up to those mountains, and many passes over them. But most of the paths were cheats and deceptions and led nowhere or to bad ends; most of the passages were infested by evil things and dreadful dangers. The Dwarves and the Hobbit, helped by the wise advice of Elrond and the knowledge and memory of Gandalf, took the right road to the right pass.  
Long days after they had climbed out of the valley and left the Last Homely House miles behind, they were still going up and up and up. It was a hard and dangerous path, a crooked way and a lonely and a long one. Now they could look back on the lands they had left, laid out behind them far below. Far, far away in the West, where things were blue and faint, Bilbo knew there lay his own country of safe and comfortable things, and his little hobbit-hole. He shivered. It was getting bitter cold up here, and the wind came shrill among the rocks. Boulders, too, at times came galloping down the mountain-sides, let loose by midday sun upon the snow, and passed among them (which was lucky), or over their heads (which was alarming). The nights were comfortless and chill, and they did not dare to sing or talk too loud, for the echoes were uncanny, and the silence seemed to dislike being broken—except by the noise of water and the wail of wind and the crack of stone.

'The summer is getting on down below,' thought Bilbo, 'and haymaking and picnics. They will be harvesting and blackberrying, before we even reach the other side at this rate.' And the others were thinking equally gloomy thoughts, although when they had said goodbye to Elrond in the high hope of a midsummer morning, they had spoken gaily of the passage of the mountains, and of riding swift across the lands beyond. They had thought of coming to the secret door in the Lonely Mountain, perhaps that very next first moon of Autumn—"and perhaps it will be Durin's Day" they had said. Only Gandalf had shaken his head and said nothing. Dwarves had not passed that way for many years, but Gandalf had, and he knew how evil and danger had grown and thriven in the Wild, since the dragons had driven Men from the lands, and the Goblins had spread in secret after the battle of the Mines of Moria. Even the good plans of wise wizards like Gandalf and of good friends like Elrond go astray sometimes when you are off on dangerous adventures or over the Edge of the Wild; and Gandalf was wise enough to know it, as was Hannah. She had very little experience with mountains, but in her short but extremely eventful life, Hannah had long since come to know that unexpected things were always going to happen in life, whether you wanted them to or not, and she had come to understand that the only control she had was how she chose to handle them. So she made the decision to survive using courage, humor, and grace; just as she had witnessed her parents and grandparents do before her.

As a result of their experiences, Gandalf and Hannah both knew that something unexpected might happen, and they hardly dared hope that they would pass without fearful adventure over those great tall mountains with lonely peaks and valleys where no king or queen ruled. They did not. All was well, until one day they met a thunderstorm—more than a thunderstorm, a thunder-battle. You know how terrific a really big thunderstorm can be when crashing down in the land and in a river-valley; especially at times when two great storms meet and clash. More terrible still are thunder and lightning in the mountains at night, when storms come up from East and West and make war. The lightning splinters on the peaks, and rocks shiver, and great crashes split the air and go rolling and tumbling into every cave and hollow; and the darkness is filled with overwhelming noise and sudden light. Bilbo had never seen or imagined anything of the kind. They were high up in a narrow place, with a dreadful fall into a dim valley at one side of them. There they were sheltering under a hanging rock for the night, and he lay beneath a blanket and shook from head to toe. Hannah tried to comfort him, but they were both quite startled when, in the lightning flashes, they saw that across the valley the stone-giants were out and hurling rocks at one another for a game, and catching them, and tossing them down into the darkness where they smashed among the trees far below, or splintered into little bits with a bang. Then came a wind and a rain, and the wind whipped the rain and the hail about in every direction, so that an overhanging rock was no protection at all. Soon they were drenched and their ponies were standing with their heads down and their tails between their legs, and some of them were whinnying with fright. They could hear the giants guffawing and shouting all over the mountainsides.

"This won't do at all!" said Thorin. "If we don't get blown off or drowned, or struck by lightning, we shall be picked up by some giant and kicked sky-high for a football." Despite the direness of their situation and his words, it suddenly struck Hannah odd that she had not ever before realized that they played football in Middle-earth, and wondered if it was the same game as what she used to play back in her own world.

"Well, if you know of anywhere better, take us there!" said Gandalf, who was feeling very grumpy, and far from happy about the giants himself.  
The end of their argument was that they sent Fili and Kili to look for better shelter. They had very sharp eyes, and being two of the youngest Dwarves by some fifty years they usually got these sort of jobs (when everybody could see that it was absolutely no use sending Bilbo). There is nothing like looking, if you want to find something (or so Thorin said to the young Dwarves). You certainly usually find something, if you look, but it is not always quite the something you were after. So it proved on this occasion.  
Soon Fili and Kili came crawling back, holding on to the rocks in the wind. "We have found a dry cave," they said, "not far round the next corner; and ponies and all could get inside."

"Have you _thoroughly_ explored it?" said the wizard, who knew caves up in the mountains were seldom unoccupied.

"Yes, yes!" they said, though everybody knew they could not have been long about it; they had come back too quick. "It isn't all that big, and it does not go far back."  
That, of course, is the dangerous part about caves: you don't know how far back they go, sometimes, or where a passage behind might lead to, or what is waiting for you inside. But now Fili and Kili's news seemed good enough. So they all got up and prepared to move. The wind was howling and the thunder still growling, and they had a business of getting themselves and their ponies along. Still it was not very far to go, and before long they came to a big rock standing out into the path. If you stepped behind, you found a low arch on the side of the mountain. There was just enough room to get the ponies through with a squeeze, when they had been unpacked and unsaddled. As they passed under the arch, it was good to hear the wind and rain outside instead of all about them, and to feel safe from the giants and their rocks. But the wizard was taking no risks. He lit up his wand, and by its light they explored the cave from end to end.  
It seemed quite a fair size, but not too large and mysterious. It had a dry floor and some comfortable nooks. At one end there was room for the ponies; and there they stood (mighty glad of the change) steaming, and champing in their nosebags. Óin and Glóin wanted to light a fire, but Gandalf would not hear of it. So they spread out their wet things on the floor, and got dry ones out of their bundles; then they made their blankets comfortable, got out their pipes and blew smoke rings, which Gandalf turned into different colors and set dancing up by the roof to amuse them. They talked and talked, and forgot about the storm, and discussed what each what do with his share of the treasure (when they got it, which at the moment did not seem so impossible); and so they dropped off to sleep one by one. And that was the last time that they used the ponies, packages, baggages, tools and paraphernalia that they had brought with them.

It turned out to be a good thing that they had brought little Bilbo with them, after all. For somehow, he could not go to sleep for a long while; and when he did sleep, he had very nasty dreams. He dreamed that a crack in the wall at the back of the cave got bigger and bigger, and opened wider and wider, and he was very afraid but could not call out or do anything but lie and look. Then he dreamed that the floor of the cave was giving way, and he was slipping—beginning to fall down, down, goodness knows where to.  
At that he woke up with a horrible start, and found that part of his dream was true. A crack had opened at the back of the cave, and was already a wide passage. He was just in time to see the last of the ponies' tails disappearing into it. Of course he gave a very loud yell, as loud a yell as a hobbit can give, which is surprising for their size.  
Out jumped the goblins, big goblins, great ugly-looking goblins, lots of goblins, before you could say _rocks and blocks_. There were six to each Dwarf, at least, and two even for Bilbo; and they were all grabbed and carried through the crack, before you could say _tinder and flint_. But not Gandalf and Hannah. Bilbo's yell had done that much good. It had wakened them up wide in a split-second, and when goblins came to grab them, there was a terrible flash like lightning in the cave, a smell like gunpowder, and several of them fell dead. The crack in the wall closed with a snap, and Bilbo and the Dwarves were on the wrong side of it!

"Oh dear." said Hannah with a frown, concerned. How were they supposed to save the others now?

"Come!" said Gandalf urgently, bidding her to follow him out of the cave. "We must find another way in, quickly now!"


	8. Chapter 8

**Previously:**

_It turned out to be a good thing that they had brought little Bilbo with them, after all. For somehow, he could not go to sleep for a long while; and when he did sleep, he had very nasty dreams. He dreamed that a crack in the wall at the back of the cave got bigger and bigger, and opened wider and wider, and he was very afraid but could not call out or do anything but lie and look. Then he dreamed that the floor of the cave was giving way, and he was slipping—beginning to fall down, down, goodness knows where to._  
_At that he woke up with a horrible start, and found that part of his dream was true. A crack had opened at the back of the cave, and was already a wide passage. He was just in time to see the last of the ponies' tails disappearing into it. Of course he gave a very loud yell, as loud a yell as a hobbit can give, which is surprising for their size._  
_Out jumped the goblins, big goblins, great ugly-looking goblins, lots of goblins, before you could say rocks and blocks. There were six to each Dwarf, at least, and two even for Bilbo; and they were all grabbed and carried through the crack, before you could say tinder and flint. But not Gandalf and Hannah. Bilbo's yell had done that much good. It had wakened them up wide in a split-second, and when goblins came to grab them, there was a terrible flash like lightning in the cave, a smell like gunpowder, and several of them fell dead. The crack in the wall closed with a snap, and Bilbo and the Dwarves were on the wrong side of it!_

_"Oh dear." said Hannah with a frown, concerned. How were they supposed to save the others now?_

_"Come!" said Gandalf urgently, bidding her to follow him out of the cave. "We must find another way in, quickly now!"_

* * *

**Chapter 8: Underhill and Riddles in the Dark**

* * *

Where were Gandalf and Hannah? Of that neither the Dwarves and Bilbo nor the Goblins had any idea, and the Goblins did not wait to find out. It was deep, deep, dark, such as only Goblins that have taken to living in the heart of the mountains can see through. The passages there were crossed and tangled in all directions, but the Goblins knew their way, as well as you do to the nearest post-office; and the way went down and down, and it was horribly stuffy. The goblins were very rough, and pinched unmercifully, and chuckled and laughed in their horrible stony voices; and Bilbo was more unhappy even than when the troll had picked him up by his toes. He wished again and again for his nice hobbit-hole. Not for the last time.  
Now there came a glimmer red of light before them. The Goblins began to sing, or croak, keeping time with the flap of their feet on the stone, and shaking their prisoners as well.

_Clap! Snap! the black crack!  
Grib, grab! Pinch, nab!  
And down, down to Goblin-town  
You go, my lad!_

_Clash, crash! Crush, smash!  
Hammer and tongs! Knocker and gongs!  
Pound, pound, down underground!  
Ho, ho! my lad!_

_Swish, smack! Whip crack!  
Batter and beat! Yammer and bleat!  
Work, work! Nor dare to shirk,  
While Goblins quaff, and Goblins laugh,  
Round and round far underground  
Below, my lad! _

It sounded truly terrifying. The walls echoed to the _clap, snap!_ And the _crush, smash!_ And to the ugly laughter of their _ho, ho! my lad!_ The general meaning of the song was only too plain; for now the Goblins took out whips and whipped them with a _swish, smack!_, and set them running as fast as they could in front of them; and more than one of the Dwarves were already yammering and bleating like anything, when they stumbled into a big cavern.  
It was lit by a great red fire in the middle, and by torches along the walls, and it was full of Goblins. They all laughed and stamped and clapped their hands, when the Dwarves (with poor little Bilbo at the back and nearest to the whips) came running in, while the goblin-drivers whooped and cracked their whips behind. The ponies were already huddled in a corner; and there were all the baggages and packages lying broken open, and being rummaged by goblins, and smelt by goblins, and fingered by goblins, and quarreled over by goblins.  
I am afraid that was the last they ever saw of those excellent little ponies, including the jolly sturdy little fellow that Elrond had leant to Gandalf, since a horse was not suitable for the mountain-paths. For Goblins eat horses and ponies and donkeys (and other much more dreadful things), and they are always hungry. Just now however the prisoners were thinking only of themselves. The Goblins chained their hands behind their backs and linked them all together in a line and dragged them to the far end of the cavern with Bilbo tugging at the end of the row.  
There in the shadows on a large flat stone, surrounded by piled up skulls and trophies form enemies to make a throne, sat a tremendous Goblin with a huge head, and armed Goblins were standing round him carrying the axes and bent swords that they use. Now Goblins are cruel, wicked, and bad-hearted. They make no beautiful things, but they make clever ones. They can tunnel and mine as well as any but the most skilled Dwarves, when they take the trouble, though they are usually very untidy and dirty. Hammers, axes, swords, daggers, pickaxes, tongs, and also instruments of torture, they make very well, or get other people to make to their design, prisoners and slaves have to work till they die for want of air and light. They did not hate Dwarves especially, no more than they hated everybody and everything, and particularly the orderly and prosperous; in some parts wicked Dwarves had even made alliances with them. Anyway, Goblins don't care who they catch, as long as it is done smart and secret, and the prisoners are not able to defend themselves.

"Who are these miserable persons?" said the Great Goblin. "Spies? Thieves? Assassins?"

"Dwarves, and this, your Malevolence!" said one of the drivers, pulling at Bilbo's chain so that he fell forward onto his knees. "We found them sheltering on our Front Porch."

"What do you mean by it?" said the Great Goblin turning to Thorin. "Up to no good, I'll warrant! Well, don't just stand there! Search them! Every crack! Every crevice!" On Nori they found several artifacts of silver and gold.

"It is my belief, your Great Protuberance, that they are in league with Elves!" said one of the searchers, presenting his king with a silver candlestick.

"Made in Rivendell." Read the Great Goblin upon inspecting its base. "Ah, Second Age. Couldn't give it away." He said, tossing it away carelessly. Upon hearing this, Bilbo and all the Dwarves stared at Nori in disbelief. They had quite obviously been nicked.

"Just a couple of keepsakes." Nori said defensively.

"What are you doing in these parts?" the Great Goblin demanded. Thorin moved to answer, but Óin placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him. Seeing as Thorin was being hunted by the orcs, it might not be a good idea for him to draw attention to himself in this den of iniquity.

"Uh, don't worry, lads. I'll handle this." Said Óin as he stepped forth.

"No tricks! I want the truth." Said the Great Goblin. "Warts and all."

"You're going to have to speak up. Your boys flattened my trumpet." Said Óin, holding up his squashed hearing horn as evidence.

"I'll flatten more than your trumpet!" The Great Goblin snapped, angered by the dwarf's impertinence.

"If it's more information you want, then I'm the one you should speak to." Bofur said quickly, redirecting his attention before he hurt the older dwarf.

"Mm-hm?" said the Great Goblin, wanting to hear more.

"We were on the road. Well, it's not so much a road as a path. Actually, it's not even that, come to think of it. It's more like a track." Said Bofur, not quite knowing what to say all at once in a moment, when obviously the exact truth would not do at all. "Anyway, the point is we were on this road, like a path, like a track. And then we weren't. Which is a problem, because we were supposed to be…"

"Shut up." The Great Goblin muttered, quickly tiring of his seemingly aimless rambling.

"… in Dunland last Tuesday." Bofur finished lamely.

"Visiting distant relations." Dori chimed in helpfully.

"Some inbreds on me mother's side." Bofur added.

"Shut up!" The Great Goblin shouted impatiently, deciding he had heard quite enough of their ridiculous excuses already. Bofur wisely shut his mouth this time.

"They are liars, O truly tremendous one!" said one of the drivers. "Several of our people were struck by lightning in the cave, when we invited these creatures to come below; and they are as dead as stones!"

"If they will not talk, we'll make them squawk! Bring up the Mangler! Bring up the Bone-breaker." Ordered the Great Goblin. "Start with the youngest."

"Wait!" shouted Thorin.

"Well, well, well!" said the Great Goblin as the noble Dwarf stepped forward to face him. "Look who it is. Thorin son of Thráin, son of Thrór, King Under the Mountain. Oh, but I'm forgetting—you don't have a mountain, and you're not a king, which makes you nobody, really." Several goblins snickered mockingly. "Still, I know someone who would pay a pretty price for your head. Just a head; nothing attached." Continued the Great Goblin with a wheezing cackle. "Perhaps you know of whom I speak. An old enemy of yours. A pale orc, astride a white warg."

"Azog the Defiler was destroyed." Said Thorin sternly, not wanting to believe what he had just heard. "He was slain battle long ago." That villain should have died of the wounds he had given the orc for killing his grandfather.

"So you think his defiling days are done, do you?" sneered the Great Goblin with another cackle. "Send word to the pale orc." He ordered one of his messengers. "Tell him I have found his prize."

The little goblin coughed and cackled as he flew away on a wire to deliver his king's message, whizzing past the entrance to an old, disused tunnel just in time to miss Gandalf and Hannah as they silently crept out through the opening in the rock, keeping low and to the shadows, while the remaining goblins' attention was still focused on the dwarves.  
There came suddenly from the goblin still inspecting the dwarves' belongings a terrible shriek as he dropped the sword Thorin had been carrying with a clatter, acting as though he had been burned.  
The Great Goblin gave a truly awful howl of rage when he looked at it, and all his soldiers gnashed their teeth, clashed their shields, and stamped. They knew the sword at once. It had killed hundreds of goblins in its time, when the fair elves of Gondolin hunted them the hills or did battle before their walls. They had called it Orcrist, Goblin-cleaver, but the goblins called it simply Biter. They hated it and hated worse anyone who carried it.

"Murderers and elf-friends!" the Great Goblin shouted. "Slash them! Beat them! Bite them! Gnash them! Take them away to dark holes and never let them see the light again!" He was in such a rage that he jumped off his seat and himself rushed at Thorin with his mouth open. Gandalf and Hannah took that as their cue to act.  
Gandalf raised his staff, and just at that moment all the lights in the cavern went out as Hannah chucked one of her larger homemade smoke bombs into the great fire. It went off _poof!_ into a tower of blue glowing smoke, right up to the roof, that scattered piercing white sparks all among the goblins.  
The yells and yammering, croaking, jabbering and jabbering; howls, growls, and curses; shrieking and skriking that followed were beyond description. Several hundred wild cats and wolves being roasted slowly alive together would not have compared with it. The sparks were burning holes in the goblins, and the smoke that now fell from the roof made the air too thick for even their eyes to see through. Soon they were falling over one another and rolling in heaps on the floor, biting and kicking and fighting as if they had all gone mad.  
Suddenly a sword flashed in its own light. Bilbo saw it go right through the Great Goblin as he stood dumbfounded in the middle of the rage. He fell dead, and the goblin soldiers fled before the sword shrieking into the darkness.  
The sword went back into its sheath. "Follow me, quick!" said a voice fierce and quiet; and before Bilbo understood what had happened he was trotting along again, as fast as he could trot, at the end of the line, down more dark passages with the yells of the goblins growing fainter behind him. A pale light was leading them on.

"Quicker, quicker!" said another softer, but no less urgent, voice. "The torches will soon be relit."

"Half a minute!" said Bofur, who was at the back next to Bilbo, and a decent fellow. He made the hobbit scramble onto his shoulders as best he could with his tied hands, and then off they all went at a run, with a clink of chains, and many a stumble, since they had no hands to steady themselves with. Not for a long while did they stop, and by that time they must have been right down in the very mountain's heart.  
Then Gandalf lit up his wand. Of course it was Gandalf, and the second voice had clearly belonged to Hannah, whom they could now see was right beside him; but just then they were too busy to ask how the two of them had got there. The wizard took out his sword again, and again it flashed in the dark by itself. It burned with a rage that made it seem as if goblins were about; now it was bright as blue flame for delight in the killing of the great lord of the cave. It made no trouble whatever of cutting through the goblin-chains and setting all the prisoners free as quickly as possible. This sword's name was Glamdring the Foe-hammer, if you remember. The goblins just called it Beater, and hated it worse than Biter if possible. Orcrist, too, had been saved; for Gandalf had brought it along as well, snatching it from one of the terrified guards. Gandalf thought of most things; and though he could not do everything, he could do a great deal for friends in a tight corner.

"Are we all here?" said he, handing Thorin's sword back to him with a bow. "Let me see: one—that's Thorin; two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven; where are Fili and Kili? Here they are, twelve, thirteen—and here's Mr. Baggins: fourteen! Well, well! It might be worse, and then again it might be a good deal better. No ponies, and no food, and no knowing quite where we are, and hordes of angry goblins just behind! On we go!"

On they went. Gandalf was quite right: they began to hear goblin noises and horrible cries far behind in the passages they had come through. That sent them on faster than ever, and as poor Bilbo could not possibly go half as fast—for dwarves can roll along at a tremendous pace, I can tell you, when they have to—they took it in turn to carry him on their backs.  
Still goblins go faster than dwarves, and these goblins knew the way better (they had made the paths themselves), and were madly angry; so that do what they could the dwarves heard the cries and howls getting closer and closer. Soon they could hear even the flap of the goblin feet, many many feet which seemed only just round the last corner. The blink of red torches could be seen behind them in the tunnel they were following; and they were getting deadly tired.

"Why, oh why did I ever leave my hobbit-hole!" said poor Bilbo bumping up and down on Bombur's back.

"Why, oh why did I ever bring a wretched little hobbit on a treasure hunt!" said poor Bombur, who was fat and staggered along with sweat dripping down his nose in his heat and terror.

At this point, Gandalf fell behind, and Hannah and Thorin with him. They turned a sharp corner. "About turn!" he shouted. "Draw your sword, Thorin! Loose your arrows, Hannah!"  
There was nothing else to be done; and the goblins did not like it. They came scurrying round the corner in full cry, and found Goblin-cleaver and Foe-hammer shining cold and bright right in their astonished eyes as one arrow after another flew at them. The ones in front dropped their torches and gave one yell before they were killed. The ones behind yelled still more, and leaped back, knocking over those that were running after them. "Biter and Beater!" they shrieked; and soon they were all in confusion, and most of them were hustling back the way they had come.  
It was quite a long while before any of then dared to turn that corner. By that time the dwarves had gone on again, a long, long, way on into the dark tunnels of the goblins' realm. When the goblins discovered that, they put out their torches and they slipped on soft shoes, and they chose out their very quickest runners with the sharpest eyes and ears. These ran forward, as swift as weasels in the dark, and with hardly any more noise than bats.  
That is why neither Bilbo, nor the Dwarves, nor Hannah, nor even Gandalf heard them coming. Nor did they seem them. But they were seen by the goblins that ran up silently behind, for Gandalf was letting his wand give out a faint light to help the dwarves as they went along.  
Quite suddenly Dori, now at the back carrying Bilbo, was grabbed from behind in the dark. He shouted and fell; and the hobbit rolled off his shoulders into the blackness, bumped his head on a hard rock, and lost consciousness as he disappeared into the dark. Meanwhile, Dori, unsure of the hobbit's fate but faced with certain danger in the form of the goblin currently attacking him. Hearing Dori cry out, the others immediately turned and doubled back to save him. Hannah quickly shot Dori's attacker before he could stab him, and Gandalf and Thorin slew the next wave of goblins. Everyone did their best to fight off the sudden onslaught as the rest og the goblins caught up to the scouts they had sent ahead, but what really saved them was actually the moment when Hannah found that she had run out of arrows and resorted to using a homemade flash grenade, hoping a sudden flash of light might scare the goblins off with the way they had reacted to the sparks from her smoke bomb.

"Fire in the hole!" She yelled as she pulled its pin and threw it amongst the horde of goblins scrambling towards them. The dwarves, not knowing what sort of weapon she might have thrown did their best to get out of the way and duck for cover as the grenade went off with a bang, lighting up the whole tunnel with a blinding flash of white light that made the goblins screech and howl and curse fiercely as they made another hasty retreat.

"Follow me, everybody!" Gandalf shouted, rousing the stunned dwarves. Once again, the company ran along the dark path with all the speed they could muster. They had no doubt the goblins would be back once they had recovered.  
They were doing well until they reached a rickety wooden bridge that had been made to form a crossing over a deep ravine. In their rush to get away, they had not bothered to stop and test how much of a load it could bear, and once Bombur stepped aboard, the company's combined weight sent the weakened section of the span they were on crashing down. The Dwarves and Hannah all gave cries and shouts of fear and alarm as they hurtled towards the ground below, clinging to the wooden planks as the ends of the bridge battered and scraped against the walls of the narrowing ravine. It was a rough landing, and there was very little bridge left by the end, but fortunately for them, it had slowed their descent enough so that they were able to survive without sustaining wounds any more serious than some nasty bumps and bruises.

"Well, that could have been worse." Bofur said as they all groaned. Gandalf winced as he quickly righted himself, already preparing to move on.

"Hey, watch your hands!" Hannah scolded Kili when she realized he was touching some rather inappropriate places as a result of their awkward landing, though it had happened quite by accident. Fili seemed amused at the trouble his brother had found himself in, but Kili was not and hastily apologized as she pushed away from him and rolled off what was left of the bridge. And none too soon, for almost as soon as Hannah moved, the rest of the bridge came crashing down on top of the dwarves, who all gave a shout and moaned in pain.

"You've got to be joking!" said Dwalin moodily while the others groaned and cursed as they hit and kicked away the rotted wooden planks.

"Gandalf!" Kili shouted when he saw movement in the dark and realized the goblins had returned, and were now crawling down the sides of the ravine after them. Their numbers appeared to have somehow tripled since their last attack.

"There's too many. We can't fight them." Said Dwalin.

"Only on thing will save us: daylight!" said Gandalf, leading them on through the tunnel that they had landed next to on the lower level. "Quickly, quickly!" the wizard urged them. As they ran, they caught a glimpse of light filtering round a corner. Not red light, as of a fire or lantern, but a pale out-of-doors sort of light. They took heart at this encouraging sight and pushed themselves on with greater speed. They could now see the light was streaming through the cracks around a great stone door. Thorin and Gandalf made quick work of its goblin-guards while Hannah and the rest of the dwarves forced the stone door open as they charged forward, and together the company burst out into the dazzling daylight. There were a few steps running down into a narrow valley between tall mountains. Down these steps Gandalf led the dwarves, and they went on and on, till the sun began to sink westwards, behind the mountains. Looking forward, Hannah could see before her only ridges and slopes falling towards lowlands and plains glimpsed occasionally between the trees. They appeared to have gotten to the other side of the Misty Mountains, right to the edge of the Land Beyond. But they could not stop so near the goblins' territory and ventured on further, out of the little high valley, over its edge, and down the slopes beyond. They came upon a stony path winding downwards with a rocky wall on the left hand; on the other side the ground sloped away and there were dells below the level of the path overhung with bushes and low threes.  
It was in one of these dells under the bushes where they finally halted to rest for a moment, and Gandalf took another headcount. He counted only thirteen aside from himself and Hannah.

"Where is Bilbo?" asked the wizard, looking round.

"He's not here?" Hannah asked, alarmed when she realized he was missing.

"Where is our hobbit? Where is our hobbit_!_?" asked Gandalf sternly as they all looked around, worried for his little friend.  
Unbeknownst to them, the hobbit in question had also made it out, and had wandered down into the dells, where he heard them talking. Bilbo crept closer, and suddenly he saw peering between two boulders a head and face of snowy white hair; it was Balin doing look-out. He could have clapped and shouted for joy, but he did not. He had still got on the magic ring he found in Gollum's cave, for fear of meeting something unexpected and unpleasant, and he saw that Balin was looking straight at him without noticing him.

'I will give them all a surprise,' He thought, as he crawled into the bushes at the edge of the dell. Gandalf was arguing with the dwarves. They were discussing all that had happened in the tunnels, trying to figure out where they had last seen their burglar, and wondering what to do now. The dwarves were grumbling, and Gandalf was saying that they could not possibly go on with their journey leaving Bilbo behind in the hands of the goblins, without trying to find out if he was dead or alive, and without trying to rescue him.

"After all, he is my friend," said the wizard, "and not a bad little chap. I feel responsible for him. I wish to goodness you had not lost him."

The dwarves wanted to know why he had ever been brought at all, why he could not stick to his friends and come along with them, and why the wizard had not chosen someone with more sense.

"Curse that halfling! Now he's lost?" Said Dwalin. "He has been more trouble than use so far."

"You would be lost too had we not come back for you." Said Hannah reminded him crossly in the hobbit's defense. They never would have been able to find their way out if that maze of tunnels in time without Gandalf's help.

"I brought him, and I do not bring things that are of no use." Said Gandalf angrily. "Either you help me look for him, or Hannah and I will go and leave you here to get out of this mess as best you can by yourselves. If we can only find him again, you will thank me before all is over. Whatever did you want to go and drop him for, Dori?"

"You would have dropped him," said Dori, "if a goblin had suddenly grabbed your leg from behind in the dark, tripped up your feet, and kicked you in the back!"

"Then why didn't you pick him up again?"

"Good heavens! Can you ask! Goblins fighting and biting in the dark, everybody falling over bodies and hitting one another! You nearly chopped off my head with Glamdring, and Thorin was stabbing here and there and everywhere with Orcrist. All of a sudden Hannah yelled something and made one of those blinding flashes, and we saw the goblins running back yelping. You shouted 'follow me everybody!' and everybody ought to have followed. We thought everybody had. There was no time to count, as you know quite well, till we had dashed through the gate-guards, out of the lower door, and helter-skelter down here. And here we are—without the burglar, confusticate him!"

"I'll tell you what happened. Master Baggins saw his chance, and he took it." Said Thorin sternly. "He has thought of nothing but his soft bed and his warm hearth since first he stepped out if his door. We will not be seeing our hobbit again. He is long gone."

"No, he isn't!" Said Bilbo stepping down into the middle of them, and slipping off the ring.  
Oh, how they jumped! Then they shouted with surprise and delight. Gandalf was as astonished as any of them, but probably more pleased than all the others, with the exception of Hannah. He called to Balin and told him what he thought of a look-out man who let people walk right into them like that without warning. It is a fact that Bilbo's reputation went up a very great deal with the dwarves after this. If they had still doubted that he was really a first-class burglar, in spite of Gandalf's words, they doubted no longer. Balin was the most puzzled of all; but everyone said it was a very clever bit of work.  
Indeed Bilbo was so pleased with their praise that he said nothing whatever about the ring; and when they asked him how he did it, he said: "Oh, just crept along, you know—very carefully and quietly."

"Well, it is the first time that even a mouse has along carefully and quietly under my very nose and not been spotted," said Balin, "and I take my hood off to you." Which he did. "Balin at your service." Said he.

"Your servant, Mr. Baggins." Said Bilbo.

Then they all wanted to know all about his adventures after they had lost him, and he sat down and told them everything—except about the finding of the ring ('not just now' he thought). They were particularly interested in the riddle competition, and shuddered most appreciatively at his description of Gollum.

"And then I couldn't think of any other question with him sitting beside me," ended Bilbo; "so I said 'what's in my pocket?' And he couldn't guess in three goes. So I said: 'what about your promise? Show me the way out!' But he came at me to kill me, and I ran, and fell over, and he missed me in the dark. Then I followed him because I heard him talking to himself. He thought I really knew the way out, and so he was making for it. And then he sat down in the entrance, and I could not get by. So I jumped over him and escaped, and ran down to the gate."

"What about the goblins? How did you get past them?" Fili asked.

"How indeed." Said Dwalin. "Perhaps there weren't there any."

"Well, what does it matter? The important thing is he's back." Said Hannah.

"It matters. I want to know." said Thorin. "Why did you come back?" he asked the hobbit.

"Look, I know you doubt me. I know you always have. And you're right, I often think of Bag End." Said Bilbo. "I miss my books, and my armchair, and my garden. See, that's where I belong. That's home. That's why I came back, because… you don't have one; a home. It was taken from you. But I will help you take it back if I can." Upon hearing this, Thorin and many of the dwarves fell speechless, but Gandalf and Hannah smiled at their small but brave friend. "And for the record there were lots of goblins," Bilbo continued after a moment; "but I dodged 'em. I got stuck in the door, which was only open a crack, and I lost lots of buttons." He said sadly, looking at his torn clothes. "But I squeezed through all right—and here I am."

The dwarves looked at him with quite a new respect, after hearing his resolve to help them, and when he talked about dodging guards, jumping over Gollum, and squeezing through, as if it was not very difficult or alarming.

"What did I tell you?" said Gandalf laughing. "Mr. Baggins has more about him than you guess." He gave Bilbo a queer look from under his bushy brows as he said this, and the hobbit wondered if he guessed at the part of his tale that he had left out.  
Then he had questions of his own to ask, for if Gandalf had explained it all by now to the dwarves, Bilbo had not heard it. He wanted to know how the wizard and Hannah had turned up again, where they had all got to now.  
The wizard, to tell the truth, never minded explaining his cleverness more than once, so now he had told Bilbo that both he and Elrond had been well aware of the presence of evil goblins in that part of the mountains. But their main gate used to come out on a different pass, one more easy to travel by, so that they often caught people benighted near their gates. Evidently people had given up going that way, and the goblins must have opened their new entrance at the top of the pass the dwarves had taken quite recently, because it had been found quite safe up until now.

"I must see if I can't find a more or less decent giant to block it up again," said Gandalf, "or soon there will be no getting over the mountains at all." As soon as Gandalf had heard Bilbo's yell he realized what had happened, as had Hannah, who had also been informed of the danger. In the flash which killed the goblins grabbing them, they had nipped outside to find a side passage and followed the echoes of goblin voices to the great hall, where the drivers had brought their prisoners, and there he sat down and worked the best magic he could in the shadows while Hannah dug inside her bag to locate the smoke bomb.

"A very ticklish business, it was." Hannah added. "Very touch and go!"

But, of course, Gandalf had made a special study of bewitchment with fire and lights (even the hobbit had never forgotten the magic fireworks at Old Took's midsummer-eve parties, as you remember). And though Hannah could not use magic herself, she had used what understanding she had of modern chemistry to master the more practical and technical points in the knowledge of these areas that he had passed on to her. The rest we all know—except that Gandalf knew all about the back-door, as the goblins called the lower gate, where Bilbo lost his buttons. As a matter of fact it was well known to anybody who was acquainted with this part of the mountains; but it took a wizard to keep his head in the tunnels and guide them in the right direction.

"They made that gate ages ago," he said, "partly for a way of escape, if they needed one; partly as a way out into the lands beyond, where they still come in the dark and do great damage, they guard it always and no one has ever managed to block it up. They will guard it doubly after this." He laughed.

All the others laughed too. After all they had lost a good deal, but they had killed the Great Goblin and a great many others besides, and they had all escaped, so they might be said to have made the best of it so far. But the wizard called them to their senses.

"We must be getting on at once, now we are a little rested." He said. "They will be out after us in hundreds when night comes on; and already shadows are lengthening. They can smell our footsteps for hours after we have passed. We must be miles put before dusk. There will be a bit of moon, if it keeps fine, and that is lucky. Not that they mind the moon much, but it will give us a little light to steer by."  
"Oh, yes!" he said in answer to more questions from the hobbit. "You lose track of time inside goblin-tunnels. Today's Thursday, and it was Monday night or Tuesday morning that we were captured. We have gone miles and miles, and come right down through the heart of the mountains, and are now on the other side—quite a shortcut. But we are not at the point to which our pass would have brought us; we are too far to the North, and have some awkward country ahead. And we are still pretty high up. Let's get on!"


	9. Chapter 9

**Previously:**

_The rest we all know—except that Gandalf knew all about the back-door, as the goblins called the lower gate, where Bilbo lost his buttons. As a matter of fact it was well known to anybody who was acquainted with this part of the mountains; but it took a wizard to keep his head in the tunnels and guide them in the right direction._

_"They made that gate ages ago," he said, "partly for a way of escape, if they needed one; partly as a way out into the lands beyond, where they still come in the dark and do great damage, they guard it always and no one has ever managed to block it up. They will guard it doubly after this." He laughed._

_All the others laughed too. After all they had lost a good deal, but they had killed the Great Goblin and a great many others besides, and they had all escaped, so they might be said to have made the best of it so far. But the wizard called them to their senses._

_"We must be getting on at once, now we are a little rested." He said. "They will be out after us in hundreds when night comes on; and already shadows are lengthening. They can smell our footsteps for hours after we have passed. We must be miles put before dusk. There will be a bit of moon, if it keeps fine, and that is lucky. Not that they mind the moon much, but it will give us a little light to steer by."_  
_"Oh, yes!" he said in answer to more questions from the hobbit. "You lose track of time inside goblin-tunnels. Today's Thursday, and it was Monday night or Tuesday morning that we were captured. We have gone miles and miles, and come right down through the heart of the mountains, and are now on the other side—quite a shortcut. But we are not at the point to which our pass would have brought us; we are too far to the North, and have some awkward country ahead. And we are still pretty high up. Let's get on!"_

* * *

**Chapter 9: Out of the Frying-Pan and into the Fire**

* * *

"I am so dreadfully hungry." Groaned Bilbo, who was suddenly aware that he had not had a meal since the night before the night before last. Just think of that for a hobbit! His stomach felt all empty and loose and his legs all wobbly, now that the excitement was over.

"Can't help it," said Gandalf, "unless you would like to go back and ask the goblins nicely to have your pony back and your luggage."

'Poor things…' Thought Hannah, feeling terribly sorry for the unfortunate dear animals.

"No thank you!" said Bilbo, knowing all too well what would happen should he be caught.

"Very well then, we must just tighten our belts and trudge on—or we shall be made into supper, and that will be much worse than having none ourselves." Said Gandalf.

"We may very well find something we can nibble on as we go." Added Hannah. There was generally something edible to be found in nature if you knew where to look and were prepared to lower your standards enough. Why cousins from her father's side had somehow managed to survive by eating tulip bulbs when they were still living in the Old Country, before coming to live in England too, in order to flee from the Nazis.  
So as they went on Bilbo and Hannah looked from side to side for something to eat; but the blackberries were still only in flower, and of course there were no nuts, nor even hawthorn-berries. They nibbled a bit of sorrel, and they drank from a small mountain-stream that crossed the path, and they shared three wild strawberries that they found on its bank between them, but it was not much good.  
They still went on and on. The rough path disappeared. The bushes, and the long grasses, between the boulders, the patches of rabbit-cropped turf, the thyme and the sage and the marjoram, and the yellow rockroses all vanished, and they found themselves at the top of a wide steep slope of fallen stones, the remains of a landslide. When they began to go down this, rubbish and small pebbles rolled away from their feet; soon larger bits of split stone went clattering down and started other pieces below them slithering and rolling; then lumps of rocks were disturbed and bounded off, crashing down with a dust and a noise. Before long the whole slope above them and below seemed on the move, and they were sliding away, huddled together, all in a fearful confusion of slipping, rattling, cracking slabs and stones.  
It was the trees at the bottom that saved them. They slid into the edge of a climbing wood of pines that here stood right up the mountain slope from the deeper darker forests of the valleys below. Some caught hold of the trunks and swung themselves into lower branches, some (like Hannah and Bilbo) got behind a tree to shelter from the onslaught of the rocks. Soon the danger was over, the slide had stopped, and the last faint crashes could be heard as the largest of the disturbed stones went bounding and spinning among the bracken and the pine-roots far below.

"Well! That has got us on a bit," said Gandalf; "and even goblins tracking us will have a job to come down here quietly."

"I daresay," grumbled Bombur; "but they won't find it difficult to send stones bouncing down on our heads." The dwarves (and Bilbo and Hannah) were feeling far from happy, and were rubbing their bruised and damaged legs and feet.

"Nonsense! We are going to turn aside here out of the path of the slide." Said the wizard. "We must be quick! Look at the light!" The sun had long gone behind the mountains. Already the shadows were deepening about them, though far away through the trees and over the black tops of those growing lower down they could still see the evening lights on the plains beyond. They limped along now as fast as they were able down the gentle slopes of a pine forest in a slanting path leading steadily southwards. At times they were pushing through a sea if bracken with tall fronds rising right above the hobbit's head; at times they were marching along quiet as quiet over a floor of pine-needles; and all the while the forest gloom got heavier and the forest silence deeper. There was no wind that evening to bring even a sea-sighing into the branches of the trees.

"Must we go any further?" asked Bilbo, when it was so dark that he could only just see Thorin's beard wagging and Hannah's curls bouncing beside him, and so quiet that he could hear the dwarves' breathing like a loud noise. "My toes are bruised and bent, and my legs ache, and my stomach is wagging like an empty sack." Hannah felt just the same as the hobbit, but remained silent since she knew they had little choice but to keep moving.

"A bit further." Said Gandalf.

After what seemed ages further they came suddenly to an opening where no trees grew. The moon was up and was shining into the clearing. Somehow it struck all of them as not at all a nice place, although there was nothing wrong to see.  
All of a sudden they heard a howl away down hill, a long shuddering howl. It was answered by another away to the right and a good deal nearer to them; then by another not far away to the left. They all recognized the sound. It was Wargs howling at the moon, Wargs gathering together! To hear it out in the forest under the moon was far more chilling than under the sun during their run to Rivendell. It was almost too much for Bilbo. Even magic rings are not much use against wolves—especially against the evil packs that lived under the shadow of the goblin infested mountains, over the Edge of the Wild on the borders of the unknown. For with their sharp sense of smell keener than any goblin's, they did not need to see you to catch you!

"What shall we do, what shall we do!" the hobbit cried. "Escaping goblins to be caught by wolves!"

"Talk about 'out of the frying pan and into the fire'!" exclaimed Hannah.

"Up the trees quick!" cried Gandalf; and they ran to the trees at the edge of the glade, hunting for those that had branches fairly low, or were slender enough to swarm up. They found them as quick as ever they could, you can guess; and up the they went as high as ever they could trust the branches. You would have laughed (from a safe distance), if you had seen the dwarves with their beards dangling down, like old gentlemen gone cracked and playing at being boys. Fili and Kili were at the top of a tall larch like an enormous Christmas tree with Hannah, who very much resembled a tree-angel with the way she was perched nearest its narrow peak. Dori, Nori, Ori, Óin, and Glóin were more comfortable in a huge pine with regular branches sticking out at intervals like the spokes of a wheel. Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, and Thorin were in another. Dwalin and Balin had swarmed up a tall slender fir with few branches and were trying to find a place to sit in the greenery of the topmost boughs. Gandalf, who was a good deal taller than the others, had found a tree into which they could not climb, a large pine standing at the very edge of the glade. He was quite hidden in its boughs, but you could see his eyes gleaming in the moon as he peeped out.

"Where's Bilbo?" asked Bofur.

"There he is!" cried Hannah when she spotted the hobbit, who could not get into any tree, and was scuttling about from trunk to trunk, like a rabbit that has lost its hole and has a dog chasing after it.

"You've left the burglar behind again!" said Nori to Dori looking down.

"I can't be always carrying burglars on my back," said Dori, "down tunnels and up trees! What do you think I am? A porter?"

"He'll be eaten if we don't do something." Said Thorin, for the howls were all around them now, getting nearer and nearer. "Dori!" he called, for Dori was lowest down in the easiest tree. "Be quick, and give Mr. Baggins a hand up!"

Dori really was a decent fellow in spite of his grumbling. Poor Bilbo could not reach his hand even when he climbed down to the bottom branch and hung his arm down as far as ever he could. So Dori actually climbed out of the tree and let Bilbo scramble up and stand on his back.  
Just at that moment the Wargs trotted howling into the clearing. All of a sudden there were hundreds of eyes looking at them. Still Dori did not let Bilbo down. He waited till he had clambered off his shoulders into the branches, and then he jumped for the branches himself. Only just in time! A wolf snapped at his cloak as he swung up, and nearly got him. In a minute there was a whole pack of them yelping all around the tree in which Dori and Bilbo were, and then went sniffling about till they had smelt out every tree that had anyone in it. These they guarded too, while all the rest went and sat in a great circle in the glade; waiting as a party orcs astride the remaining members of their pack came riding into the middle of their circle, led by a pale orc on a white warg. They had come in answer to the goblins' summons. The dwarves were all in a much tighter spot than they had imagined.

"Azog." Said a stunned Thorin, staring down at the pale orc in disbelief. "It cannot be." He said with furrowed brow.

"Do you smell it? The scent of fear?" Azog asked his soldiers and the Wargs in their dreadful language, sniffing the night air. "Your father reeked of it, Thorin son of Thráin." Gandalf and most of the dwarves understood it. Bilbo and Hannah did not, but it sounded terrible to them, as if all their talk was bout cruel and wicked things, as it was. "That one is mine. Kill the others!" Azog ordered his hunting party. The Wargs and Orcs charged with chilling howls and ferocious snarls, tearing and hacking at the trees. "Drink their blood!" One by one, the trees they had hidden in came crashing down into each other, forcing the dwarves, Hannah, and Bilbo to flee by desperately leaping from one branch to the next; until they all found themselves clinging to those of the wizard's tree, which was to sturdy to be so easily knocked down.  
At this point, seeing who they were now dealing with, Gandalf began to be dreadfully afraid, wizard though he was, and to feel that they were in a very bad place, and had not yet escaped at all. All the same, he was not going to let them have it all their own way, though he could not do very much stuck up in a tall tree with Wargs and orcs all round the ground below. The rest of the company watched as he gathered the huge pine-cones from the branches of his tree. Then he set one alight with bright blue fire, and threw it whizzing down among the enemy. It struck one Warg on the back, and immediately his shaggy coat caught fire, and he was leaping to and fro yelping horribly. Then another came and another, one in blue flames, one in red, another in green. They burst on the ground below and went off in colored sparks and smoke. Azog let out a roar of anger as the Wargs retreated.  
The Dwarves and Hannah and Bilbo shouted and cheered. The rage of the Orcs and Wargs was terrible to see, and the commotion they made filled the forest. Wargs are afraid of fire at all times, but this was a most horrible and uncanny fire. If a spark got in their coats it stuck and burned into them, and unless they rolled over quickly they were soon all in flames. Very soon about the glade, Wargs were rolling over and over to put out the sparks on their backs (without regard for their riders), while those that were burning were running about howling and setting others alight, till their own friends chased them away and they fled off down the slopes crying and yammering and looking for water.

"What's all this uproar in the forest tonight?" said the Lord of the Eagles. He was sitting, black in the moonlight, on the top of a lonely pinnacle of rock at the eastern edge of the mountains. "I hear Wargs' voices! Are the goblins at mischief I the woods?" He swept up into the air, and immediately two of his guards from the rocks at either hand leaped up to follow him. They circled up in the sky and looked down on the glade, a tiny spot far below. But eagles have keen eyes and can see small things at a great distance. The Lord of the Eagles of the Misty Mountains had eyes that could look at the sun unblinking, and could see a rabbit moving on the ground a mile below in the moonlight. So though he could not see the people in the trees, he could make out the commotion among the wolves and see the tiny flashes of fire, and hear the howling and yelping come up faint from far beneath him. Also he could see the glint of the moon on the Orc weapons and armor of the wicked folk in Azog's hunting party.  
Eagles are not kindly birds. Some are cowardly and cruel. But the ancient race of the northern mountains were the greatest of all birds; they were proud and strong and noble-hearted. They did not love goblins and orcs, or fear them. When they took notice of them at all (which was seldom, for they did not eat such creatures), they swooped on them and drove them shrieking back to their caves, and stopped whatever wickedness they were doing. The Orcs and Goblins hated the Eagles and feared them, but could not reach their lofty seats, or drive them from the mountains.  
Tonight the Lord of the Eagles was filled with curiosity to know what was afoot; so he summoned many other Eagles to him, and they flew away from the mountains, and slowly circling ever round and round they came down, down, down towards the ring of the Wargs and Orcs.  
A very good thing too! Dreadful things had been going on down there. The Wargs that had caught fire and fled into the forest had set it alight in several places. It was high summer, and on this eastern side of the mountains there had been little rain for some time. Yellowing bracken, fallen branches, deep-piled pine-needles, and here and there dead trees, were soon in flames. All round the clearing of the Wargs and Orcs fire was leaping. But the Orcs and their rides did not leave the trees. Maddened and angry they were leaping and howling round the trunks, and cursing the dwarves in their horrible language. Orcs were not afraid of fire, and they waved their weapons and clashed them against their shields. Azog was locked in a glare with Thorin, who suddenly jumped down from his branch and descended from the tree to stand before the pale orc, his most hated enemy. Thorin charged boldly into the fray, but Azog's white Warg leaped over the Dwarf, knocking him to the ground with a swipe of its paw. Thorin quickly rolled back onto his feet just as Azog circled round, swinging his mace. The heavy weapon struck the dazed Dwarf in the jaw, knocking him flat on his back.

"Nooo!" Balin and the other Dwarves cried as they watched their brave leader go down. Hannah quickly reached for an arrow as the white warg loomed over Thorin with open jaws, but was painfully reminded of the fact that she had run out when her hand snatched only air. Thorin let out a cry of pain as the beast's jaws snapped against the arm bearing his oaken-shield and armored back.

"Thorin!" Dwalin cried out in alarm. He tried to move to go to his aid, but the branch beneath him snapped, and he found he was dangling just out of reach of the angry Wargs and Orcs below as the others quickly moved to pull him back up. Despite the crushing pain he was in, Thorin struck at the white Warg's nose with his blade, and the beast threw him aside with a yelp and a snarl.

"Bring me the Dwarf's head." Azog ordered the Orc beside him. Watching as the Orc dismounted and began making his way over to Thorin, who was lying prone on the hard ground, Hannah began feeling around for something that could help him, but all she had left on her person was smoke bombs, but they were made to be purely defensive and nonlethal, and they would be of no use against the keen noses of the Wargs. Suddenly, Hannah became aware that Bilbo had left the safety of the tree and was hurrying quickly and quietly towards them with his short-sword drawn.  
Thorin opened his eyes when he felt the edge of an orcish blade against his throat and looked up in alarm at the Orc that was now looming over him as it raised the blade, preparing to strike. But the blow never came. With a shout, Bilbo flung himself at Thorin's would-be executioner, tackling the Orc to the ground. Thorin gasped as he tried to get back up, but found he not move still, and watched in amazement as the hobbit quickly used his blade to knock aside the enemy's weapon and deliver a serious blow before the Orc had a chance to recover from his surprise attack. Azog snarled furiously at the interruption of his revenge.

"Kill him." he order angrily. Bilbo did not understand what had been said, but he quickly moved back to stand protectively in front of Thorin, waving his sword about nervously in an attempt to keep the remaining Orcs at bay as they began stalking towards him on their Wargs. But the Orcs soon found themselves thwarted again as they were rushed by the Dwarves and Hannah, wielding the dagger she had taken from the troll-hoard. The knife's blade gleamed with a pale light as she dodged a Warg's snapping jaws and stabbed it in the eye, while Fili and Kili took out its rider. For a moment, Bilbo stood and watched the battle developing before him in surprise, but then he gave a shout and joined the fight, deflecting an attack from the orc that came riding at him. His attacker circled round to try again, but was intercepted by Dwalin and Balin. Instead, the hobbit found himself being knocked flat by a head-butt from the white Warg. Azog had decided to finish off Thorin and his meddlesome protector himself.

"Bilbo!" Hannah cried upon spotting how dire his situation had once again become, she moved to run to his aid, but found it unnecessary, for just at that moment a giant Eagle swooped down and used its massive claws to pull a kindled tree down between the pale orc and his pray, crushing several of his soldiers in the process.

There was a howl of anger and surprise from the Orcs. Loud cried the Lord of the Eagles, to whom Gandalf had spoken, and was now riding. Back swept the great birds that were with him, and down they came like huge black shadows. The Wargs yammered and gnashed their teeth; the Orcs yelled and stamped with rage, and flung their weapons in the air in vain. Over them swooped the Eagles; the dark rush of their beating wings smote them to the floor or drove them far away; their talons tore at Orc faces. Other birds flew in to seize and save the Dwarves and Hannah. In one moment Bilbo was staring in astonishment as one Eagle scooped Thorin up right before his eyes, and found himself panicking in the next when another came straight for him and seized the hobbit only briefly in its talons before letting him drop down on the back of the Eagle that was carrying Hannah.  
Now far below the Orcs and the Wargs were scattering far and wide in the woods. A few Eagles were still circling and sweeping above the battle-ground. The flames about the trees sprang suddenly up above the highest branches. They went up in crackling fire. There was a sudden flurry of sparks and smoke. The company had escaped only just in time!  
Soon the light of the burning was faint below, a red twinkle on the black floor; and they were high up in the sky, rising all the time in strong sweeping circles. Bilbo and Hannah never forgot that flight.

"Haha! This is absolutely brilliant!" The excited girl cheered with shining eyes, thrilled and thoroughly enjoying the chance to experience the feeling of flight first hand, without even an airplane between her and the wind! Bilbo, who was clutching the Eagle's feathers tightly and holding on for dear life, clearly did not share his young traveling companion's enthusiasm, as his only response was to make a noise somewhere between a groan and whimper.  
At the best of times heights made Bilbo giddy. Like most hobbits, he was not comfortable with the feeling of being too high off the ground. He used to turn queer if he looked over the edge of quite a little cliff; and he had never liked ladders, let alone trees (never having had to escape from Wargs that way before). So you can imagine how his head swam now, when he looked down and saw the dark lands opening wide underneath him, touched here and there with the light of the moon on a hill-side rock or a stream in the plains. The pale peaks of the mountains were coming nearer, moonlit spikes of rock sticking out of black shadows. Summer or not, it seemed very cold. He shut his eyes and tried not to think about what would happen if he should fall.  
But he soon had cause to open them again despite his fear, for they heard Fili calling out to his uncle anxiously, and everyone became concerned when there came no answer from Thorin, who had appeared to have fallen unconscious.  
The moment the flight ended, and Thorin was set down on a wide shelf of rock on the mountain-side. There was no path down on it save for flying; and no path down on it except by jumping over a precipice. Gandalf climbed down from the Lord of the Eagles' back and hurried over to check on the unmoving Dwarf, fearing that perhaps his wounds had been too severe.

"Thorin! Thorin?" the wizard called, trying to rouse him. Hannah and Bilbo were next to be set down, and they watched worriedly as Gandalf reached out and passed one of his hands over Thorin's closed eyes, whispering secret words of magic that were beyond comprehension. They all breathed a sigh of relief when the Dwarf finally opened his eyes again. The first thing Thorin did was ask about the hobbit.

"Bilbo is here. He's quite safe." Gandalf reassured him. Hearing this Thorin rolled over and stood with some help of his brethren.

"You! What were you doing?" said Thorin sternly, staring straight at the hobbit, who shared a slightly bewildered glance with Hannah, wondering what he had done to upset the Dwarf. "You nearly got yourself killed! Did I not say that you would be a burden? That you would not survive in the Wild? That you had no place amongst us?" asked Thorin as he advanced towards the Bilbo, closing the distance between them. "I have never been so wrong in all my life." He said, embracing the hobbit as a brother. Bilbo felt more than just a little surprised by the Dwarf's sudden acceptance of him, and was deeply touched. Hannah smiled as the rest of the Dwarves gave a cheer, watching as Thorin released Bilbo. "And I am sorry I doubted you."

"No, I would have doubted me too." Said Bilbo humbly. "I'm not a hero, or a warrior. Not even a burglar." He added with a glance at Gandalf. The wizard gave a quiet chuckle at that. "Well, at any rate, now I know what a piece of bacon feels like when it is suddenly picked out of the pan on a fork and put back on the shelf!" said the hobbit on a lighter note.

"I hope not!" Said Hannah wryly. "Because the bacon knows that it will get back in the pan sooner or later; and I certainly hope we shan't." Quite a few of the Dwarves murmured in agreement to this.

"Also, Eagles aren't forks!" added Dori.

"Oh, no! Not a bit like storks—forks, I mean." Said Bilbo, straightening up and looking anxiously at the Eagles who were perched close by, suddenly remembering that they were not alone. He wondered if the Eagles thought him rude. He hoped not. You ought not to be rude to an Eagle, when you are only the size of a hobbit, and are up in his eyrie at night!  
The Eagles only sharpened their beaks on a stone and trimmed their feathers and appeared to take no notice. But now that everyone was assured to find Thorin's life was not in danger, they could move on give their undivided attention to other matters; and Gandalf began to converse with the Lord of the Eagles.  
The Wizard and the Eagle-lord seemed to know one another slightly, and even to be on friendly terms. As a matter of fact Gandalf, who had often been in the mountains, had once rendered a service to the Eagles and healed their lord from an arrow-wound. As Bilbo listened to the talk of Gandalf he realized that at last they were going to escape really and truly from the dreadful mountains. He was discussing plans with the Great Eagle for carrying the Dwarves and himself and Bilbo and Hannah far away and setting them down well on their journey across the plains below.  
The Lord of the Eagles would not take them anywhere near where men lived.

"They would shoot at us with their great bows of yew," he said, "for they would think we were after their sheep. And at other times they would be right. No! We are glad to cheat the Orcs and Goblins of their sport, and glad to repay our thanks to you, but we will not risk ourselves for Dwarves in the southward plains."

"Very well." Said Gandalf. "Take us where and as far as you will! We are already deeply obliged to you. But in the meantime we are famished with hunger."

"I am nearly dead of it." said Bilbo in a weak little voice that nobody heard.

"That perhaps can be mended." Said the Lord of the Eagles.

Later on you might have seen a bright fire on the shelf of rock and the figures of Dwarves round it cooking and making a fine roasting smell. The Eagles had brought up dry boughs for fuel, and they had brought rabbits, hares, and a small sheep. The uninjured Dwarves managed all the preparations. Bilbo was too weak to help now that all his excitement had worn off again, and anyway he was not much good at skinning rabbits or cutting up meat, being used to having it delivered by the butcher all ready to cook; and the same went for Hannah. Gandalf, too, was lying down after doing his part in setting the fire going, since Óin and Glóin had lost their tinderboxes. (Dwarves have never taken to matches even yet.)  
So ended the adventure of the Misty Mountains. Soon Bilbo's stomach was feeling full and comfortable again, and he could sleep contentedly, though really he would have liked a loaf and butter better than bits of meat toasted on sticks. He slept curled up on the hard rock more soundly than ever he had done on his feather-bed in his own little hole at home. But all night he dreamed of his own house and wandered in his sleep into all his different rooms looking for something that he could not find nor remember what it looked like.


	10. Chapter 10

Author's note: Just as a heads up, I'm planning to change this story's title to: 'A Long Strange Journey'.

* * *

**Previously:**

_Later on you might have seen a bright fire on the shelf of rock and the figures of Dwarves round it cooking and making a fine roasting smell. The Eagles had brought up dry boughs for fuel, and they had brought rabbits, hares, and a small sheep. The uninjured Dwarves managed all the preparations. Bilbo was too weak to help now that all his excitement had worn off again, and anyway he was not much good at skinning rabbits or cutting up meat, being used to having it delivered by the butcher all ready to cook; and the same went for Hannah. Gandalf, too, was lying down after doing his part in setting the fire going, since Óin and Glóin had lost their tinderboxes. (Dwarves have never taken to matches even yet.)_  
_So ended the adventure of the Misty Mountains. Soon Bilbo's stomach was feeling full and comfortable again, and he could sleep contentedly, though really he would have liked a loaf and butter better than bits of meat toasted on sticks. He slept curled up on the hard rock more soundly than ever he had done on his feather-bed in his own little hole at home. But all night he dreamed of his own house and wandered in his sleep into all his different rooms looking for something that he could not find nor remember what it looked like._

* * *

**Chapter 10: Queer Lodgings**

* * *

The next morning Bilbo woke up with the early sun in his eyes. He jumped up to look at the time and go to put the kettle on—and found he was not home at all. So he sat down and wished in vain for a wash and brush. He did not get either, nor tea nor toast nor bacon for his breakfast, only cold mutton and rabbit. And after that he had to get ready for a fresh start.  
This time he had his own Eagle and was allowed to climb on to his back and cling between his wings. The air rushed over him and he shut his eyes. The Dwarves and Hannah were crying farewells and promising to repay the Lord of the Eagles if ever they could, as off rose sixteen great birds from the mountain's side. Bilbo could hear sounds of delight from Hannah as her Eagle took flight. The sun was still close to the eastern side of things. The morning was cool, and mists were in the valleys and hollows and twined here and there about the peaks and pinnacles of the hills. Bilbo opened an eye to peep and saw that the birds were already high up and the world was far away, and the mountains were falling back behind them into the distance. He shut his eyes again and held on tighter.

"Don't pinch!" said his Eagle. "You need not be frightened like a rabbit, even if you look rather like one. It is a fair morning with little wind. What is finer than flying?"

Bilbo would have liked to say: "A warm bath and a late breakfast on the lawn afterwards;" but he thought it better to say nothing at all, and to let go his clutch just a tiny bit.

After a good while the Eagles must have seen the point they were making for, even from their great height, for they began to go down circling round in great spirals. They did this for a long while, and at last the hobbit opened his eyes again. The earth was much nearer, and below them were trees that looked like oaks and elms, and wide grass lands, and a river running through it all. But cropping out of the ground, right in the path of the stream which looped itself about it, was a great rock, almost a hill of stone, like a last outpost of the distant mountains, or a huge piece cast miles into the plain by some giant among giants.  
Quickly now to the top of this rock the Eagles swooped one by one and set down their passengers.

"Farewell!" they cried. "Wherever you fare, till your eyries receive you at the journey's end!" That is the polite thing to say among eagles.

"May the wind under your wings bear you where the sun sails and the moon walks." Answered Gandalf, who knew the correct reply.

And so they parted. And though the Lord of the Eagles became in after days the King of All Birds and wore a golden crown, and his sixteen chieftains golden collars (made of the gold that the Dwarves gave them), Bilbo and Hannah never saw them again—except high and far off in the battle of Five Armies. But as that comes in much later towards the end of this tale, we will say no more about it just now.  
There was a flat space on top of the hill of stone and a well worn path with many steps leading down it to the river, across which a ford of huge flat stones led to the grass-land beyond the stream. There was a little carve (a wholesome one with a pebbly floor) at the foot of the steps near the end of the stony ford. Here the party gathered and discussed what was to be done.

"I always meant to see you all safe (if possible) over the mountains," said the wizard, "and now by good management _and_ good luck I have done it. Indeed we are now a good deal further east than I ever meant to come with you, for after all this is not my adventure. I may look in on it again before it is all over, but in the meanwhile I have some other pressing business to attend to." By that Hannah knew that he meant to return in time for the meeting of the White Council, but the others did not know this, and Gandalf would not explain in further detail since the meeting was to be kept secret.  
The Dwarves groaned and looked most distressed, and Bilbo wept. They had begun to think Gandalf was going to come all the way and would always be there to help them out of difficulties.

"I am not going to disappear this very instant." Said he. "I can give you a day or two more. Probably I can help you out of your present plight, and I need a little help myself. We have no food, and no baggage, and no ponies to ride; and you don't know where you are. Now I can tell you that. You are still some miles north of the path which we should have been following, if we had not left the mountain pass in a hurry. Very few people live in these parts, unless they have come here since I was last down this way, which is some years ago. But there is _somebody_ that I know of, who lives not far away. That Somebody made the steps on the great rock—the Carrock I believe he calls it. He does not come here often, certainly not in the daytime, and it is no good waiting for him. In fact it would be very dangerous. We must go and find him; and if all goes well at our meeting, I think I shall be off and wish you like the Eagles 'farewell wherever you fare!'"

They begged him not to leave them. They offered him dragon-gold and silver and jewels, but he would not change his mind. "We shall see, we shall see!" he said. "And I think I have earned already some of your dragon-gold—when you have got it."

After that they stopped pleading. Then they took off their clothes and bathed in the river, which was shallow and clear and stony at the ford. (Hannah of course separated from the rest of the group at this point for the sake of privacy and went a ways off until she was out of sight but still within hearing-shot if she should need to give a shout for help.) When they had dried in the sun, which was now strong and warm, they were refreshed, if still sore and a little hungry. Soon they reunited and crossed the ford (carrying the hobbit), and then began to march through the long green grass and down the lines of the wide-armed oaks and the tall elms.

"And why is it called the Carrock?" asked Bilbo as he went along at the wizard's side.

"He called it the Carrock, because carrock is his word for it. He calls thing like that carrocks, this one is _the_ Carrock because it is the only near his home and he knows it well."

"Who calls it? Who knows it?"

"Is it the Somebody you spoke of?" Hannah asked, also curious.

"Yes, and he is a very great person." Answered Gandalf. "You must all be very polite when I introduce you. I shall introduce you slowly, two by two, I think; and you _must_ be careful not to annoy him, or heaven knows what will happen. He can be appalling when he is angry, though he is kind enough if humored. Still I warn you he gets angry easily."

The Dwarves all gathered round when they heard the wizard talking like this to Bilbo and Hannah. "Is that the person you are taking us to now?" they asked. "Couldn't you find someone more easy-tempered? Hadn't you better explain it all a bit clearer?"—and so on.

"Yes it certainly is! No I could not! And I was explaining very carefully." Answered the wizard crossly. "If you must know more, his name is Beorn. He is very strong, and he is a skin-changer." Hannah's eyes widened in surprise upon hearing this. She wondered if it skin-changers were like the dangerous and cursed werewolves of legend in her world.

"What! A furrier, a man that calls rabbits conies, when he doesn't turn their skins into squirrels?" asked Bilbo, having never heard of anything of the like before.

"Good gracious heavens, no, no, No, NO!" said Gandalf. "Don't be a fool Bilbo Baggins if you can help it; and in the name of all wonder don't mention the word furrier again as long as you are within a hundred miles of his house, nor rug, cape, tippet, muff, nor any other such unfortunate word! He is a skin-changer. He changes his skin; sometimes he is a huge black bear, sometimes he is a great strong man with huge arms and great beard. I cannot tell you much more, though that ought to be enough. Some say that he is a bear descended from the great and ancient bears of the mountains that lived there before the giants came. Others say that he is a man descended from the first men who lived before Smaug or the other dragons came into this part of the world, and before the goblins came into the hills out of the North. I cannot say, though I fancy the last is the true tale. He is not the sort of person you ask questions of.  
"At any rate he is under no enchantment but his own." The wizard added as if reading his apprentice's mind. "He lives in an oak-wood and has a great wooden house; and as a man he keeps cattle and horses which are nearly as marvelous as himself. They work for him and talk to him. He does not eat them; neither does he hunt or eat wild animals. He keeps hives and hives of great fierce bees, and lives most on cream and honey. As a bear he ranges far and wide. I once saw him sitting all alone on the top of the Carrock at night watching the moon sinking towards the Misty mountains, and I heard him growl in the tongue of bears; 'The day will come when they will perish and I shall go back!' That is why I believe he once came from the mountains himself."

Bilbo, Hannah, and the Dwarves now had plenty to think about, and they asked no more questions. They still had a long way to walk before them. Up slope and down dale they plodded. It grew very hot. Sometimes they rested under trees, and then Bilbo felt so hungry that he would have eaten acorns, if any had been ripe enough yet to have fallen to the ground.  
It was the middle of the afternoon before they noticed that great patches of flowers had begun to spring up, all the same kinds growing together as if they had been planted. Especially there was clover, waving patches of cockscomb clover, and purple clover, and wide stretches of short white sweet honey-smelling clover. There was a buzzing and a whirring and a droning in the air. Bees were busy everywhere. And such bees! Hannah and Bilbo had never seen anything like them. They were bigger than hornets. The drones were bigger than your thumb, a good deal, and the bands of yellow on their deep black bodies shone like fiery gold.

'If one was to sting me,' the hobbit thought, 'I should swell up as big again as I am!'

"We are getting near." Said Gandalf. "We are on the edge of his bee-pastures."

After a while they came to a belt of tall and very ancient oaks, and beyond these to a high thorn-hedge through which you could neither see nor scramble.

"You had better wait here," said the wizard to the Dwarves; "and when I call or whistle begin to come after me—you will see the way I go—but only in pairs, mind, about five minutes between each pair of you. Bombur is fattest and will do for two, he had better come alone and last. Come on Hannah, Bilbo! There is a gate somewhere round this way." And with that he went off along the hedge taking his young apprentice and the frightened hobbit with him. Bringing the two of them out at the same time should be safe since they appeared to be the least threatening, and their combined heights roughly equaled that of one grown man.  
They soon came to a wooden gate, high and broad, beyond which they could see gardens and a cluster of low wooden buildings, some thatched and made of unshaped logs; barns, stables, sheds, and a long low wooden house. Inside on the southward side of the great hedge were rows and rows of hives with bell-shaped tops made of straw. The noise of the giant bees flying to and fro and crawling in and out filled all the air.  
The wizard and his apprentice and the hobbit pushed open the heavy creaking gate and went down a wide track towards the house. Some horses, very sleek and well-groomed, trotted up across the grass and looked at them intently with very intelligent faces; then off they galloped to the buildings.

"They have gone to tell him of the arrival of strangers." Said Gandalf.  
Soon they reached a courtyard, three walls of which were formed by a wooden house and its two long wings. In the middle there was lying a great oak-trunk with many lopped branches beside it. Standing near was a huge man with a thick beard and hair, and great bare arms and legs with knotted muscles. He was clothed in a tunic of wool down to his knees, and was leaning on a large axe. The horses were standing by him with their noses at his shoulder.

"Ugh! Here they are!" he said to the horses. "They don't look dangerous. You can be off!" He laughed a great rolling laugh, put down his axe and came forward. "Who are you and what do you want?" he asked gruffly, standing in front of them and towering tall above Gandalf. Hannah's head was only as high as his waist. As for Bilbo he could have easily trotted through his legs without ducking to miss the fringe of the man's brown tunic.

"I am Gandalf." Said the wizard.

"Never heard of him," growled the man, "and who's the girl, your granddaughter? And what's this little fellow?" he said, stooping down to frown at the hobbit with his bushy eyebrows.

"This is Hannah, my apprentice, and that is Mr. Baggins, a hobbit of good family and unimpeachable reputation." said Gandalf. Hannah and Bilbo bowed. They had no hats to take off, and Bilbo was painfully conscious of his many missing buttons. "I am a wizard." Continued Gandalf. "I have heard of you, if you have not heard of me; but perhaps you have heard of my colleague, Radagast the Brown, who lives near the Southern borders of Mirkwood?"

"Yes; not a bad fellow as wizards go, I believe. I used to see him now and again." Said Beorn. "Well, now I know who you are, or who you say you are." He had never heard of a Wizard taking an apprentice before. "What do you want?"

"To tell the truth, we have lost our luggage and nearly lost our way, and are rather in need of help, or at least advice. I may say we have had rather a bad time with goblins in the mountains."

"Goblins?" said the man less gruffly. "Oh ho, so you've been having trouble with _them_ have you? What did you go near them for? Stupid thing to do!" Hannah couldn't agree more, given everything that had happened.

"We did not mean to. They surprised us at night in a pass which we had to cross, we were coming out of the Lands over West into these countries—it is a long tale."

"Then you had better come inside and tell me some of it, if it won't take all day." Said the man leading the way through a dark door that opened out of the courtyard into the house. Following him they found a wide hall with a fireplace in the middle. Though it was summer there was a wood-fire burning and the smoke was rising to the blackened rafters in search of a way out through an opening in the roof. They passed through this dim hall, lit only by the fire and the hole above it, and came through another smaller door into a sort of veranda propped on wooden posts made of single tree-trunks. It faced south and was still warm and filled with the light of the westering sun which slanted into it, and fell golden on the garden full of flowers that came right up to the steps.  
Here they sat on wooden benches while Gandalf began his tale, and Bilbo and Hannah swung their dangling legs and looked at the flowers in the garden, wondering what their names could be, as they had never seen half of them before.

"My apprentice and I were coming over the mountains with a friend or two…" said the wizard.

"Or two? I can only see one, and a little one at that." Said Beorn.

"Well to tell the truth, I did not like to bother you with a lot of us, until I found if you were busy. I will give a call, if I may."

"Go on, call away!"

So Gandalf gave a long shrill whistle, and presently Thorin and Dwalin came round the house by the garden path and stood bowing low before them.

"One or three you meant, I see!" said Beorn. "But these aren't hobbits, they are dwarves!"

"Thorin Oakenshield, at your service! Dwalin at your service!" said the two Dwarves bowing again.

"I don't need your service, thank you," said Beorn, "but I expect you need mine. I am not over fond of Dwarves; but if it is true and you are Thorin (son of Thráin, son of Thrór, I believe), and that your company is respectable, and that you are enemies of goblins and not up to any mischief in my lands—what are you up to, by the way?"

"They are on their way to visit the land of their fathers, away east beyond Mirkwood," put in Gandalf, "and it is entirely an accident that we are in your lands at all. We were crossing by the High Pass that should have brought us to the road that lies to the south of your country, when we were attacked by the evil goblins—as I was about to tell you."

"Go on telling, then!" said Beorn, who was never very polite.

"There was a terrible storm; the stone-giants were out hurling rocks, and at the head of the pass we took refuge in a cave, the hobbit and Hannah and I and several of our companions…"

"Do you call two several?"

"Well, no. As a matter of fact there were more than two."

"Where are they? Killed, eaten, gone home?"

"Well, no, they don't seem to have all come when I whistled. Shy, I expect. You see, we are very much afraid that we are rather a lot for you to entertain."

"Go on, whistle again! I am in for a party, it seems, and or two more won't make much difference." Growled Beorn.

Gandalf whistled again; but Nori and Ori were there almost before he had stopped, for, if you remember, Gandalf had told them to come in pairs every five minutes.

"Hullo!" said Beorn. "You came pretty quick—where were you hiding? Come on my jack-in-the-boxes!"

"Nori at your service, Ori at…" they began; but Beorn interrupted them.

"Thank you! When I want your help I will ask for it. Sit down, and let's get on with this tale, or it will be suppertime before it is ended."

"As soon as we were asleep," went on Gandalf, "a crack at the back of the cave opened; goblins came out and grabbed the hobbit and the dwarves and our troop of ponies—"

"Troop of ponies? What were you—a traveling circus? Or were you carrying lots of goods? Or do you always call seven a troop?"

"Oh no! As a matter of fact there were more than seven od us—and well, here are two more!" just at that moment Balin and Dori appeared and bowed so low that their beards swept the stone floor. The big man was frowning at first, but they did their best to be frightfully polite, and kept on nodding and bending and bowing (in proper Dwarf-fashion), till he stopped frowning and burst into a chuckling laugh; they looked so comical.

"Troop, was right." He said. "A fine comic one. Come in merry men, and what are _your_ names? I don't want your service just now, only your names; and then sit down and stop wagging!"

"Balin and Dori." They said not daring to be offended, and sat flop on the floor looking rather surprised.

"Now go on again!" said Beorn to the wizard.

"Where was I? Oh yes—Hannah and I were _not_ grabbed. I killed a goblin or two with a flash—"

"Good!" growled Beorn. "It is some good being a wizard, then."

"—and we quickly located another passage that brought us down to the main hall, which was crowded with goblins. The Great Goblin was there with thirty or forty armed guards. I thought to myself 'even if they were not all chained together, what can a dozen do against so many?"

"A dozen! That's the first time I've heard eight called a dozen. Or have you still got some more jacks that haven't yet come out of their boxes?"

"Well, yes, there seem to be a couple more here now—Fili and Kili, I believe." Said Gandalf, as these two now appeared and stood smiling and bowing.

"That's enough!" said Beorn. "Sit down and be quiet! Now go on, Gandalf!"

So Gandalf went on with the tale, until he came to the fight in the dark, the discovery of the lower gate, and their horror when they found that Mr. Baggins had been mislaid. "We counted ourselves and found that there was no hobbit. There were only fifteen of us left!"

"Fifteen! That's the first time I've heard one from eleven leave fourteen. You mean ten, or else you haven't told me yet all the names of your party."

"Well, of course you haven't seen Óin and Glóin yet and, bless me! Here they are. I hope you will forgive them for bothering you."

"Oh let 'em all come! Hurry up! Come along, you two, and sit down! But look here, Gandalf, even now we have only got yourself and your clever little apprentice and ten Dwarves and the hobbit that was lost. That only makes twelve (plus one mislaid) and not fifteen, unless wizards count differently to other people. But now please get on with the tale." Beorn did not show it more than he could help, but he really had begun to get very interested. You see, in the old days, he had known the very part of the mountains that Gandalf was describing. He nodded and he growled, when he heard of the hobbit's reappearance and their scramble down the stone-slide and of the Orc hunting party and their Wargs cornering them in the woods.  
When Gandalf came to their climbing into trees with the Wargs all underneath, he got up and strode about and muttered: "I wish I had been there! I would have given them more than fireworks!"

"Well," said Gandalf very glad to see that his tale was making a good impression, "I did the best I could. There we were with Wargs going mad underneath us and the forest beginning to blaze in places with all sixteen of us trapped in one tree, when—"

"Good heavens!" growled Beorn. "Thirteen isn't sixteen, and you know it."

"Yes, so I do. There were Bifur and Bofur as well. I haven't ventured to introduce them before, and here they are." Said Gandalf as in came Bifur and Bofur.

"And me!" gasped Bombur puffing up behind. He was very angry at being left till last and had refused to wait five minutes, and followed immediately after the other two.

"Well, now there _are_ sixteen of you, and I hope they are the last since supposedly that is all that there were up in the trees. Now perhaps we can finish this story without any more interruptions." Bilbo saw then how very clever the wizard had been. The interruptions had really made Beorn more interested in the story, and the story had kept him from sending the Dwarves off at once like suspicious beggars. Beorn never invited people into his house, if he could help it. He had very few friends and they lived a good way away; and he never invited more than a couple of these to his house at a time. Now he had got sixteen strangers sitting on his porch!  
By the time the wizard had finished his tale and told of how they had fought the Orcs, of the Eagles' rescue, and of how they had all been brought to the Carrock, the sun had fallen behind the peaks of the Misty Mountains and the shadows were long in Beorn's garden.

"A very good tale!" said he. "The best I have heard for a long while. If all beggars could tell such a good one, they might find me kinder. You may be making it all up, of course, but you deserve a supper for the story all the same. Let's have something to eat!"

"Yes, please!" They all said together. "Thank you very much!"

Inside the hall it was now quite dark. Beorn clapped his hands, and in trotted four beautiful white ponies and several large long-bodied grey dogs. Beorn said something to them in a queer language like animal noises turned into talk. They went out again and soon came back carrying torches in their mouths, which they lit at the fire and stuck in low brackets on the pillars of the hall around the central hearth. The dogs could stand on their hind-legs when they wished, and carry things with their fore-feet. Quickly they got out boards and trestles from the side walls and set them up near the fire.  
Then baa—baa—baa! was heard, and in came some snow-white sheep led by a large coal-black ram. One bore a white cloth embroidered at the edges with figures of animals; other bore on their backs trays with bowls and platters and knives and wooden spoons, which the dogs took and quickly laid on the trestle tables. These were very low, low enough even for Bilbo to sit at comfortably. Beside them a pony pushed two low-seated benches with wide rush-bottoms and little short thick legs for Gandalf and Thorin, while at the far end he put Beorn's big black chair of the same sort (in which he sat with his great legs stuck far out under the table). These were all the chairs he had in his hall, and he probably had them low like the tables for the convenience of the wonderful animals that waited on him. What did the rest sit on? They were not forgotten. The other ponies came in rolling round drum-shaped sections of the logs, smoothed and polished, and low enough even for Bilbo; so soon they were all seated at Beorn's table, and the hall had not seen such a gathering for many a year.

There they had a supper, or a dinner, such as they had not had since they left the Last Homely House in the West and said goodbye to Elrond. The light of the torches and the fire flickered about them, and on the table were two tall red beeswax candles. All the time they ate, Beorn in his deep rolling voice told tales of the wild lands on his side of the mountains, and especially of the dark and dangerous wood, that lay outstretched far to the North and South a day's ride before them, barring their way to the East, the terrible forest of Mirkwood.  
The Dwarves listened and shook their beards, for they knew that they must soon venture into that forest and that after the mountains it was the worst of the perils they had to pass before they came to the dragon's stronghold. When dinner was over they began to tell tales of their own, but Beorn seemed to be growing drowsy and paid little heed to them. They spoke most of gold and silver and jewels and the making of fine things by smith-craft, and Beorn did not appear to care for such things: there were no things of gold or silver in his hall, and few save the knives were made of metal at all.  
They sat long at the table with their wooden drinking-bowls filled with mead (warm milk in Hannah's case). The dark night came on outside. The fires in the middle of the hall were built with fresh logs and the torches were put out, and still they sat in the light of the dancing flames with the pillars of the house standing tall behind them, and dark at the top like trees of the forest. Whether it was magic or not, it seemed Hannah and Bilbo that they heard a sound like wind stirring in the rafters, and the hoot of owls. Soon they began to nod with sleep and the voices seemed to grow far away, until they both woke with a start.  
The great door had creaked and slammed. Beorn was gone. The Dwarves were sitting cross-legged on the floor round the fire, and presently they began to sing. Some of the verses were like this, but there were many more, and their singing went on for a long while:

_The wind was on the withered heath,  
but in the forest stirred no leaf:  
there shadows lay by night and day,  
and dark things silent crept beneath._

_The wind came down from mountains cold,  
and like a tide it roared and rolled;  
the branches groaned, the forest moaned,  
and leaves were laid upon the mould._

_The wind went on from West to East;  
all movement in the forest ceased,  
but shrill and harsh across the marsh  
its whistling voices were released._

_The grasses hissed, their tassels bent,  
the reeds were rattling-on it went  
o'er shaken pool under heavens cool  
where racing clouds were torn and rent._

_It passed the lonely Mountain bare  
and swept above the dragon's lair:  
there black and dark lay boulders stark  
and flying smoke was in the air._

_It left the world and took its flight  
over the wide seas of the night.  
The moon set sail upon the gale,  
and stars were fanned to leaping light._

Bilbo began to nod off again, when a soft and sweet voice rose next in song. It was Hannah. The Dwarves' song had reminded her of one from her world in the same vein, which reminded her of her mother, and she now shared it with them:

_Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling,  
From glen to glen, and down the mountain side,  
The summer's gone, and all the roses dying,  
'Tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bide._

_But come ye back when summer's in the meadow,  
Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow,  
'Tis I'll be here in sunshine or in shadow—  
Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so!_

_But when ye come, and all the flowers are dying,  
If I am dead, as dead I well may be,  
Ye'll come and find the place where I am lying,  
And kneel and say an "Ave" there for me._

_And I shall hear, though soft you tread above me,  
And all my grave will warmer, sweeter be,  
For you will bend and tell me that you love me,  
And I shall sleep in peace until you come to me!_

_Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so._

Bilbo stared at the young girl in awe, for although her song was simpler than the Dwarves', it was no less potent. They had never before heard her sing, and her voice was just as fair as that of any of the she-elves he had heard in Rivendell. The hobbit was just about to say as much when suddenly up stood Gandalf.

"That was lovely, Hannah, but it is time for us to sleep," he said, "—for us, but not I think for Beorn. In this hall we can rest sound and safe, but I warn you all not to forget what Beorn said before he left us: you must not stray outside until the sun is up, on your peril."

They found that beds had already been laid at the side of the hall, on a sort of raised platform between the pillars on the outer wall. For Bilbo there was a little mattress of straw and woolen blankets. He snuggled into them very gladly, summertime though it was. The fire burned low and they all fell asleep. Yet in the night Hannah woke: the fire had now sunk to a few embers; the Dwarves and Gandalf were all asleep, to judge by their breathing; a splash of white on the floor came from the high moon, which was peering down through the smoke-hole in the roof, and which she could see had caught the hobbit's open eyes with a faint gleam in the darkness. Bilbo was awake as well.  
There was a growling sound outside, and a noise as of some great animal scuffling at the door. The two of them silently wondered what it was, and whether it could be Beorn in enchanted shape, and if he would come in as a bear and them. Bilbo dived under his blankets and hid his head, while Hannah rolled over and pulled her covers over her own. Thinking of the hospitality he had shown their company and how comfortable and safe the other animals seemed to feel around their host, she told herself that she was being rather silly and the feeling of danger was most likely merely a product of an overactive imagination. She had plenty of practice forcing herself to sleep through such feelings of paranoia thanks to the ever looming threat of night air-raids that she had faced back in England. Bilbo was not so quick to recover, but they both fell asleep again at last in spite of their fears.


	11. Chapter 11

**Previously:**

_There was a growling sound outside, and a noise as of some great animal scuffling at the door. The two of them silently wondered what it was, and whether it could be Beorn in enchanted shape, and if he would come in as a bear and them. Bilbo dived under his blankets and hid his head, while Hannah rolled over and pulled her covers over her own. Thinking of the hospitality he had shown their company and how comfortable and safe the other animals seemed to feel around their host, she told herself that she was being rather silly and the feeling of danger was most likely merely a product of an overactive imagination. She had plenty of practice forcing herself to sleep through such feelings of paranoia thanks to the ever looming threat of night air-raids that she had faced back in England. Bilbo was not so quick to recover, but they both fell asleep again at last in spite of their fears._

* * *

**Chapter 11: The Passage into Mirkwood  
**

* * *

It was full morning when they awoke. One of the Dwarves had fallen over Bilbo in the shadows where he lay, and had rolled down with a bump from the platform on to the floor. It was Bifur, and he was grumbling about it, when Hannah and Bilbo opened their eyes upon hearing (feeling in Bilbo's case) the commotion.

"Get up lazy bones," he said, "or there will be no breakfast left for you." Up jumped Hannah and Bilbo, who knew enough about the Dwarves' eating habits to know that was no joke.

"Breakfast!" the hobbit cried. "Where is breakfast?"

"Mostly inside us," answered Bofur who was moving around the hall with the other Dwarves; "but what is left is out on the veranda."

"We've been up and about looking for Beorn ever since the sun got up; but there's no sign of him anywhere, though we found breakfast laid as soon as we went out." Added Balin.

"Where is Gandalf?" asked Hannah, moving off with Bilbo to find something to eat as quick as she could.

"Oh, out and about somewhere." The Dwarves told them. But they saw no sign of the wizard all that day until the evening. Just before sunset he walked into the hall, where Hannah and the hobbit and the Dwarves were having supper, waited on by Beorn's wonderful animals, as they had been all day. Of Beorn they had seen and heard nothing since the night before, and they were getting puzzled.

"Where is our host, and where have _you_ been all day yourself?" they all cried.

"One question at a time—and none till after supper!" said the wizard. "I haven't had a bite since breakfast."

At last Gandalf pushed away his plate and jug—he had eaten two whole loaves (with masses of butter and honey and clotted cream) and drunk at least a quart of mead—and he took out his pipe. "I will answer the second question first," he said, "I have been picking out bear-tracks. There must have been a regular bears' meeting outside here last night. I soon saw that Beorn could not have made them all: there were far too many of them, and they were of various sizes too. I should say there were little bears, large bears, ordinary bears, and gigantic bears, all dancing outside from dark to nearly dawn. They came from almost every direction, except from west over the river, from the Mountains. In that direction only one set of footprints led—none coming, only ones away from here. I followed these as far as the Carrock. There they disappeared into the river, but the water was too deep and strong beyond the rock for me to cross. It is easy enough, as you remember, to get from this bank to the Carrock by the ford, but on the other side is a cliff standing up from a swirling channel. I had to walk miles before I found a place where the river was wide and shallow enough for me to wade and swim, and then miles back again to pick up the tracks again. By that time it was too late for me to follow them far. They went straight off in the direction of the pinewoods on the east side of the Misty Mountains, where we had our unpleasant encounter with the Orcs and their Wargs the night before last. And now I think I have answered your first question, too." Ended Gandalf, and he sat a long while silent.  
Bilbo thought he knew what the wizard meant.

"What shall we do," he cried, "if he leads all the Orcs and the Wargs and the Goblins down here? We shall all be caught and killed! I thought you said he was not a friend of theirs."

"So I did. And don't be silly! You had better go to bed, your wits are sleepy."

The hobbit felt quite crushed, and as there seemed nothing else to do, he did go back to bed; and while the Dwarves were still singing songs he dropped asleep, still puzzling his little head about Beorn, till he dreamed a dream hundreds of black bears dancing slow heavy dances round and round in the moonlight in the courtyard.  
Meanwhile, Hannah continued to speak with Gandalf in hushed tones.

"You needn't have been so hard on him. I take it our host must have decided to look into the truth of our story for himself?" said Hannah.

"Yes," agreed Gandalf; "so it would seem." He was glad to see that she was keeping her head about her. It took a lot to rattle his young ward. "Have you given any further thought as to what it is you plan to do?"

"Do?" asked Hannah, furrowing her brow slightly in confusion.

"I mean are you still coming back with me, or were you thinking of staying with Bilbo and the rest? You seem reluctant to leave them." The wizard remarked keenly, eyeing her with wise grey orbs. "I'm getting the feeling that you would rather continue this journey."

"Well, I'm not much in the habit of quitting something once I've started it." Hannah replied with a wry smile. "But you're right, I have been thinking. I've been thinking about how dangerous this venture has become, and where I could be of the most use." Even if she returned with him for the meeting of the White Council, she felt that her presence there would accomplish very little. Since she was not a member, she would not be allowed to participate in the secret meeting, and Saruman had never really cared for her. (He still seemed skeptical about her origins.) Also, she was not a warrior. If the Council did decide to attack the Enemy directly, then she had little doubt that Gandalf and Elrond would make her stay behind in Rivendell for her own safety. Part of Hannah was tempted to let them protect her, but another larger part would not allow her to run away while there was still a chance there might be something that she could do to help. She could not leave Bilbo and the others to face the danger of the dragon alone. As they had no chance of matching the Smaug's power, Hannah knew that it would undoubtedly boil down to a battle of wits in the end. She may not have much brawn, but she had plenty of brains; and Hannah knew this. There was _something_ she could do. "And so… I would like to continue on with them for a little longer. I would like to see this journey through to its end." She concluded bravely. Gandalf stared at his student for a moment longer before letting out a sigh. He had thought as much. He did not like the idea of leaving Hannah in so much danger: their adventure seemed—and was—all the more perilous now that they knew was Azog on their tail. But he recognized that look in her eyes and knew that Hannah would not be deterred now that she had made her decision. And despite the worry he felt for the girl, the wizard did feel some measure of comfort knowing she and Bilbo would still be helping the Dwarves while he was gone.

There was a silent understanding between student and teacher. With nothing more left to say on the matter, Hannah prepared for bed, and drifted off to sleep listening to the songs of the Dwarves. Then she woke up some time later when everyone else was asleep, and she heard the same scraping, scuffling, snuffling, and growling as before. She realized Bilbo was also awake, but this time the hobbit rolled over and went back to sleep rather quickly. Hannah would have liked to do the same, but something was bothering her. The noise outside seemed different from last night, more aggressive. She wondered briefly if she should poke her head outside for a moment to see if everything was all right, but then she remembered how both Gandalf and Beorn had warned them all against stepping out at night and decided against it.  
Next morning they were all awakened by Beorn himself.

"So here you all are still!" he said. He picked up the hobbit and laughed. "Not eaten up by Wargs or Orcs or Goblins or wicked bears yet I see," and he poked Mr. Baggins' waistcoat most disrespectfully. "Little bunny is getting nice and fat again on bread and honey." He chuckled. "Come and have some more!"

So they all went to breakfast with him. Beorn was most jolly for a change; indeed he seemed to be in a splendidly good humor and set them all laughing with his funny stories; nor did they have to wonder long where he had been or why he was so nice to them, for he told them himself. He had been over the river and right back up into the mountains—from which you can guess that he could travel quickly, in bear's shape at any rate. From the burnt wolf-glade he had soon found out that part of their story was true; but he had found more than that: he had caught a Warg and a Goblin wandering in the woods. From these he had got news: the goblin patrols and Azog's party were still hunting with Wargs for the Dwarves, and they were fiercely angry because of the death of the Great Goblin, and also because of the chance missed by Azog to take his revenge upon Thorin and the burning of many of his chief Wargs. So much they told him when he forced them, but he guessed there was more wickedness than this afoot, and that a great raid of a whole army of Goblins and Orcs with their wolf-allies into the lands shadowed by the mountains might soon be made to find the Dwarves, or to take vengeance on the men and creatures that lived there, and who they thought must be sheltering them.

"It was a good story, that of yours," said Beorn, "but I like it better now I am sure it is true. You must forgive my not taking your word. If you lived near the edge of Mirkwood, you would take the word of no one that you did know as well as your brother or better. As it is, I can only say that I have hurried home as fast as I could to see that you were safe, and to offer you any help that I can. I shall think more kindly of Dwarves after this. Killed the Great Goblin, killed the Great Goblin!" he chuckled fiercely to himself, though his mood fell as a much darker memory crossed his mind. "So you are the one they call Oakenshield. Tell me, why is Azog the Defiler hunting you?" he asked Thorin. He had heard of the pale Orc's involvement from the Goblin and Warg, but he did not yet know all of the details of his old battle against the Dwarves at Moria, and that Thorin Oakenshield had been the one to take Azog's arm.

"You know of Azog?" asked Thorin. "How?"

"My people were the first to live in the Mountains, before the Orcs came down from the North." Said Beorn. "The Defiler killed most of my family, but some he enslaved. Not for work you understand… but for sport. Caging skin-changers and torturing them seemed to amuse him."

"There are others like you?" asked Hannah, wincing sympathetically at the thought of all the suffering Beorn's clan must have been forced to endure. It reminded her of the horror stories she had heard from her cousins about the people who were captured and taken to the ghettos and concentration camps by the Nazis.

"Once there were many." Answered Beorn, looking down. "Now there is only one."

"What did you do with the Goblin and the Warg?" asked Bilbo suddenly in an attempt to shift the subject away onto something less painful for their host.

"Come and see!" said Beorn, and they followed round the house. A goblin's head was stuck outside the gate and a warg-skin was nailed to a tree just beyond. Beorn was a fierce enemy. But now he was their friend, and Gandalf thought it wise to tell him their whole story and the reason for their journey, so that they could get the most help he could offer. Beorn did not like Dwarves. He thought them greedy, and blind; blind to the lives of those they deemed lesser than their own. But he thought better of Thorin's company for their part in killing the Great Goblin, for he hated Orcs and Goblins far more and above all else.  
This is what he promised to do for them. He would provide ponies for each of them, and a horse for Gandalf, for their journey to the forest and he would lade them with food to last them for weeks with care, and packed so as to be as easy as possible to carry—nuts, flour, sealed jars of dried fruits, and red earthenware pots of honey, and twice-baked cakes that would keep good a long time, and on a little of which they could march far. The making of these was one of his secrets; but honey was in them, as in most of his foods, and they were good to eat, though they made one thirsty. Water, he said, they would not need to carry this side of the forest, for there were streams and springs along the road. "But your way through Mirkwood is dark, dangerous and difficult," he said. "Water is not easy to find there, nor food. The time is not yet come for nuts (though it may be past and gone indeed before you reach get to the other side), and nuts are about all that grows there fit for food; in there the wild things are dark, queer, and savage. I will provide you with skins for carrying water, and I will give you some bows and arrows. But I doubt very much whether anything you find in Mirkwood will be wholesome to eat or to drink. There is one stream there, I know, black and strong which crosses the path. That you should neither drink of, nor bathe in; for I have heard that it carries enchantment and a great drowsiness and forgetfulness. And in the dim shadows of that place I don't think you will shoot anything, wholesome or unwholesome, without straying from the path. That you must not do, for any reason.  
"That is all the advice I can give you. Beyond the edge of the forest I cannot help you much; you must depend on your luck and your courage and the food I send with you. At the gate of the forest I must ask you to send back my horse and my ponies. But I wish you all speed, and my house is open to you, if ever you come back this way again."

They thanked him, of course, with many bows and sweepings of their hoods and with many an "at your service, oh master of the wide wooden halls!" But their spirits sank at his grave words, and they all felt that the adventure was far more dangerous than they had thought, while all the time, even if they passed all the perils of the road, the dragon was waiting at the end.  
All that morning they were busy with preparations. Soon after midday they ate with Beorn for the last time, and after the meal they mounted the steeds he was lending them, and bidding him many farewells they rode off through his gate at a good pace.  
As soon as they left his high hedges at the east of his fenced lands they turned north and then bore to the northwest. By his advice they were no longer making for the main forest-road to the south of his land. Had they followed the pass, their path would have led them down the stream from the mountains that joined the great river miles south of the Carrock. At that point there was a deep ford which they might have passed, if they still had their ponies, and beyond that a track led to the skirts of the wood and to the entrance of the old forest road. But Beorn had warned them that that way was now often used by the goblins, while the forest-road itself, he had heard, was overgrown and disused at the eastern end and led to impassable marshes where the paths had long been lost. Its eastern opening had also always been far to the south of the Lonely Mountain, and would have left them still with a long and difficult northward march when they got to the other side. North of the Carrock the edge of Mirkwood drew closer to the borders of the Great River, and though there here the mountains too drew down nearer, Beorn advised them to take this way; for at a place a few days' ride due north of the Carrock was the gate of a little known pathway through Mirkwood that led almost straight towards the Lonely Mountain.

"The Goblins and Orcs," Beorn had said, "will not dare to cross the Great River for a hundred miles north of the Carrock nor to come near my house—it is well protected at night!—but I should ride fast; for if they make their raid soon they will cross the river to the south and scour all the edge of the forest so as to cut you off, and Wargs run swifter than ponies. Still you are safer going north, even though you seem to be going back nearer to their strongholds; for that is what they will least expect, and they will have the longer ride to catch you. Be off now as quick as you may!"

That is why they were now riding in silence, galloping wherever the ground was grassy and smooth, with the mountains dark on their left, and in the distance the line of the river with its trees drawing ever closer. The sun had only just turned west when they started, and till evening it lay golden on the land about them. It was difficult to think of pursuing goblins and orcs behind, and when they had put many miles between them and Beorn's house they began to talk and sing again and to forget the dark forest-path that lay in front. But in the evening when dusk came on and the peaks of the mountains glowered against the sunset they made a camp and set a guard, and most of them slept uneasily with dreams in which there came the howl of hunting Wargs and cries of orcs.  
Still the next morning dawned bright and fair again. There was an autumn-like mist white upon the ground and the air was chill, but soon the sun rose red in the East and the mists vanished, and while the shadows were still long they were off again. So they rode now for two more days, and all the while they saw nothing save grass and flowers and birds and scattered trees, and occasionally small herds of red deer browsing or sitting at noon in the shade. Sometimes Bilbo saw the horns of the harts sticking up out of the long grass, and at first he thought they were the dead branches of trees. That third evening they were so eager to press on, for Beorn had said that they should reach the forest-gate early on the fourth day, and they rode still forward after dusk and into the night beneath the moon. As the light faded Bilbo thought he saw away to the right, or to the left, the shadowy form of a great bear prowling along in the same direction. But if he dared mention it to Gandalf, the wizard only said: "Hush! Take no notice!"  
Next day they started before dawn, though their night had been short. As soon as it was light they could see the forest coming as it were to meet them, or waiting for them like a black and frowning wall before them. The land began to slope up and up, and it seemed to the hobbit that a silence began to draw in upon them. Birds began to sing less. There were no more deer; not even rabbits were to be seen. By the afternoon they had reached the eaves of Mirkwood, and were resting almost beneath the great overhanging boughs of its outer trees. Their trunks were huge and gnarled, their branches twisted, their leaves were dark and long. Ivy grew on them and trailed to the ground.

"Well, here is Mirkwood!" said Gandalf. "The greatest of the forests of the Northern world. I hope you like the look of it."

"This forest feels… sick." Said Hannah, gazing into the deep and twisting shadows before them warily. It was not the dark that made her uneasy, but rather the heavy and ominous feeling she could feel permeating the air round it.

"Yes, as if a disease lies upon it." Bilbo felt inclined to agree. It had an unwholesome look to it.

"Indeed this is not the Greenwood of old; a fell shadow has fallen over the land. However this appears to be an Elven gate." The wizard remarked taking notice of the ivy-covered ornate posts making the entrance to this forest-gate hidden only a couple feet inside the shadowy tree-line that had been smoothly carved to resemble stylized trees with antler-like branches curving off of them. "That should be of some comfort to you; it takes much for a land to forget Elves, where once they dwelled. As Beorn said, this path should indeed still be safe, so long as you stick to it. Now you must send back these excellent ponies you have borrowed." The Dwarves were inclined to grumble at this, but the wizard told them they were fools. "Beorn is not as far off as you seem to think, and you had better keep your promises anyway, for he is a bad enemy. Bilbo's eyes are sharper than yours, if you have not seen each night after dark a great bear going along with us or sitting far off in the moon watching our camps. Not only to guard and guide you, but to keep an eye on the ponies too. Beorn may be your friend, but he loves his animals as his children. You do not guess what kindness he has shown you in letting Dwarves ride them so far and so fast, nor what would happen to you, if you tried to take them into the forest."

"What about the horse, then?" said Thorin. "You don't mention sending that back."

"I don't, because I am not sending it."

"What about _your_ promise then?"

"I will look after that. I am not sending the horse back, I am riding it!"

Then they knew that Gandalf was going to leave them at the very edge of Mirkwood, and they were in despair. But nothing they could say would change his mind.

"Now we had this all out before, when we landed on the Carrock." He said. "It is no use arguing. I have, as I told you, some pressing business away south; and I am already late through bothering with you people. We may meet again before all is over, and then again of course we may not. That depends on your luck and on your courage and sense; and I am Mr. Baggins with you. I have told you before that he has more about him than you guess, and you will find that out before long. Also, Hannah has decided to stay behind and will continue to accompany you in my absence. So cheer up Bilbo, and don't look so glum. Cheer up Thorin and Company! This is your expedition after all. Think of the treasure at the end, and forget the forest and the dragon, at any rate until tomorrow morning!"

When tomorrow morning came he still said the same. So now there was nothing left to do but fill their waterskins at a clear spring they found close to the forest-gate, and unpack the ponies. They distributed the packages as fairly as they could, though Bilbo thought his lot was wearisomely heavy, and did not at all like the thought of trudging for miles and miles with all that on his back.

"Don't you worry!" said Thorin. "It will get lighter all too soon. Before long I expect we shall all wish our packs heavier, when the food begins to run short."

"What concerns me most is the water. We should be able to survive so long as we don't run out of that." Said Hannah. "You can live without food for a time, but without water one will perish at an alarming rate." Upon hearing this the Dwarves added more water to their skins until they seemed in danger of bursting from their fullness.  
Then at last they said goodbye to their ponies and turned their heads for home. Off they trotted gaily, seeming very glad to put their tails towards the shadow of Mirkwood. As they went away Bilbo could have sworn that a thing like a bear left the shadow of the trees and shambled off quickly after them.  
Now Gandalf too said farewell. Though he had been glad to learn that Hannah at least would still be with them, Bilbo sat on the ground feeling very unhappy and wishing he was beside the wizard in his tall horse. He had gone just inside the forest after breakfast (a very poor one), and it had seemed as dark in there in the morning as at night, and very secret: "a sort of watching and waiting feeling," he said to himself.

"Goodbye!" said Gandalf to Thorin. "And goodbye to you all, goodbye! Straight through the forest is your way now. Don't stray off the track!—if you do, it is a thousand to one you will never find it a gain and never get out of Mirkwood; and then I don't suppose I, or anyone else, will ever see you again."

"Do we really have to go through?" groaned the hobbit.

"Yes, you do!" said the wizard, "if you want to get to the other side. You must either go through or give up your quest. And I am not going to allow you to back out now, Mr. Baggins. I am ashamed of you for thinking of it. You have got to help Hannah look after all these Dwarves for me." He laughed, hiding his concern behind a smile.

"No! No!" said Bilbo. "I didn't mean that. I meant, is there no way round?"

"There is, if you care to go two hundred miles or so out of your way north, and twice that south. But you wouldn't get a safe path even then. There are no safe paths in this part of the world. Remember you are over the Edge of the Wild now, and in for all sorts of fun wherever you go. Before you could get round Mirkwood in the North you would be right among the slopes of the Grey Mountains, and they are simply stiff with goblins, hobgoblins, and orcs of the worst description. Now, come help me onto this horse, Hannah." Said Gandalf, calling her over. As she pretended to help him up, he lowered his voice so that only she could hear what he said next. "Before you could get round it in the South, you would get into the land of the Necromancer; and even you, Hannah, won't need me to tell you tales of that black sorcerer. I don't advise you to go anywhere near the places overlooked by his dark tower! I am grateful to you for volunteering to stay behind and look after the others, but do not forget to take care of yourself! Be _very_ careful, Hannah. Do not enter the Lonely Mountain without me." The wizard cautioned her gravely. Hannah nodded in understanding.

"And you, as well." She said seriously in a quiet voice, wishing him luck with his task of convincing the rest of the White Council to engage the Enemy before it was too late, and asking him to take care during the confrontation. The wizard nodded and raised his voice as he glanced back at the hobbit and the Dwarves.

"Stick to the forest-track—the very air of the forest is heavy with illusion. It will seek to enter your mind and lead you astray. Keep your spirits up, hope for the best, and with a tremendous slice of luck you _may_ come out one day and see the Long Marshes lying below you, and beyond them, high in the East, the Lonely Mountain where dear old Smaug lives, though I hope he is not expecting you."

"Very comforting you are to be sure." Growled Thorin. "Goodbye! If you won't come with us, you had better get off without any more talk!"

"Goodbye then, and really goodbye!" said Gandalf, and he turned his horse and rode down into the West. But he could not resist the temptation to have the last word. Before he had passed quite out of hearing he turned and put his hands to his mouth and called to them. They heard his voice come faintly: "Goodbye! Be good, take care of yourselves—and DON'T LEAVE THE PATH!" Then he galloped away and was soon lost to sight.

"Oh, goodbye and go away!" grunted the Dwarves, all the more angry because they were really filled with dismay at losing him. Now began the most dangerous part of all the journey. They each shouldered the heavy pack and the waterskin which was their share, and turned from the light that lay on the lands outside and plunged into the forest.


	12. Chapter 12

**Previously:**

_"Goodbye then, and really goodbye!" said Gandalf, and he turned his horse and rode down into the West. But he could not resist the temptation to have the last word. Before he had passed quite out of hearing he turned and put his hands to his mouth and called to them. They heard his voice come faintly: "Goodbye! Be good, take care of yourselves—and DON'T LEAVE THE PATH!" Then he galloped away and was soon lost to sight._

_"Oh, goodbye and go away!" grunted the Dwarves, all the more angry because they were really filled with dismay at losing him. Now began the most dangerous part of all the journey. They each shouldered the heavy pack and the waterskin which was their share, and turned from the light that lay on the lands outside and plunged into the forest._

* * *

**Chapter 12: Over the River and through the Woods**

* * *

They walked in single file. The entrance to the path beyond the ivy-covered ornate posts smoothly carved to resemble stylized trees with antler-like branches curving off of them was like a sort of arch leading into a gloomy tunnel made by two great trees that leant together, too old and strangled with ivy and hung with lichen to bear more than a few blackened leaves. The path itself was narrow and wound in and out among the trunks. Soon the light at the gate was like a little bright hole far behind, and the quiet was so deep that their feet seemed to thump along while all the trees leaned over them and listened.  
As their eyes became used to the dimness they could see a little way to either side in a sort of darkened green glimmer. Occasionally a slender beam of sun that had the luck to slip through some opening in the leaves far above, and still more luck in not being caught in the tangled boughs and matted twigs beneath, stabbed down thin and bright before them. But this was seldom, and it soon ceased altogether.  
There were black squirrels in the wood. As Bilbo's sharp inquisitive eyes got used to seeing things he could catch glimpses of them whisking off the path and scuttling behind tree-trunks. There were queer noises too, grunts, scufflings, and hurryings in the undergrowth, and among the leaves that lay piled endlessly thick in places on the forest-floor; but what made the noises he could not see. The nastiest things they saw were the cobwebs: dark dense cobwebs with threads extraordinarily thick, often stretched from tree to tree, or tangled in the lower branches on either side of them. There were none stretched across the path, but whether because some magic kept it clear, or for what other reason they could not guess.  
It was not long before they grew to hate the forest as heartily as they had hated the tunnels of the Goblins, and it seemed to offer even less hope of any ending. But they had to go on and on, long after they were sick for a sight of the sun and of the sky, and longed for the feel of wind on their faces. There was no movement of air down under the forest-roof, and it was everlastingly still and dark and stuffy. Even the Dwarves felt it, who were used to tunneling, and lived at times for long whiles without the light of the sun; but Hannah, who only ever went below ground to hide in bomb shelters and an occasional ride on the Underground, and the hobbit, who liked holes to make a house in but not to spend summer days in, felt as though they were being slowly suffocated.  
The nights were the worst. It then became pitch-dark—not what you call pitch-dark, but really pitch; so black that you really could see nothing. Bilbo tried flapping his hand in front of his nose, but he could not see it at all. Well, perhaps it is not true to say that they could see nothing: they could see eyes. They slept all closely huddled together, and took it in turns to watch; and when it was Bilbo's turn he would see gleams in the darkness round them, and sometimes pairs of yellow or red or green eyes would stare at him from a little distance, and then slowly fade and disappear and slowly shine out again in another place. And sometimes they would gleam down from the branches just above him; and that was most terrifying. But the eyes he liked the least were horrible pale bulbous sort of eyes. 'Insect eyes' he thought, 'not animal eyes, only they are much too big.'  
Although it was not yet very cold, they tried lighting watch-fires at night, but they soon gave that up. It seemed to bring hundreds and hundreds of eyes all round them, though the creatures, whatever they were, were careful never to let their bodies show in the little flicker of the flames. Worse still it brought thousands of dark-grey and black moths, some nearly as big as your hand, flapping and whirring round their ears. They could not stand that, nor the huge bats, black as a top-hat, either; so they gave up fires and sat at night and dozed in the enormous uncanny darkness.  
All this went on for what seemed to the hobbit ages upon ages; and he was always hungry, for they were extremely careful with their provisions. Even so, as days followed days, and still the forest seemed just the same, they began to get anxious. The food would not last forever: it was in fact already beginning to get low. They tried shooting at the squirrels, and they wasted many arrows before they managed to bring one down on the path. But when they roasted it, it proved horrible to taste, and they shot no more squirrels.  
They were thirsty too, for they had none too much water, and in all the time they had seen neither spring nor stream. This was their state when one day they found their path blocked by a running water. It flowed fast and strong but not very wide right across the way, and it was black, or looked it in the gloom. It was well that Beorn had warned them against it, or they would have drunk from it, whatever its color, and filled some of their emptied skins at its bank. As it was they only thought of how to cross it without wetting themselves in its water. There had been a bridge of wood across, but it had rotted and fallen leaving only the broken posts near the bank.  
Bilbo kneeling on the brink and peering forward cried: "There is a boat against the far bank! Now why couldn't it have been this side!"

"How far away do you think it is?" asked Hannah and Thorin, for by now they knew Bilbo had the sharpest eyes among them.

"Not at all far. I shouldn't think above twelve yards." Answered the hobbit.

"Twelve yards!" said Balin. "I should have thought it was thirty at least, but my eyes don't see as well as they used a hundred years ago."

"Still twelve yards is as good as a mile." Said Thorin. "We can't jump it, and we daren't try to wade or swim. A dark magic lies upon this forest: the waters of this stream are enchanted."

"Doesn't look very enchanting to me." remarked Bofur.

"We'll simply have to find another way across." Said Hannah. "Can any of you throw a rope?"

"What's the good of that? The boat is sure to be tied up, even if we could hook it, which I doubt." Said Dwalin.

"I don't believe it is tied," said Bilbo, "though of course I can't be sure in this light; but it looks to me as if it was just drawn up on the bank, which is low just there where the path goes down into the water."

"Dori is the strongest, but Fili has the best sight." Said Thorin. "Come here Fili, and see if you can see the boat Mr. Baggins is talking about."

Fili thought he could; so when he had stared a long while to get an idea of the direction, the others brought him a rope. They had several with them, and on the end of the longest they fastened one of the large iron hooks they had used for catching their packs to the straps about their shoulders. Fili took this in his hand, balanced it for a moment, and then flung it across the stream.  
Splash it fell in the water! "Not far enough!" said Bilbo who was peering forward. "A couple of feet and you would have dropped it on to the boat. Try again. I don't suppose the magic is strong enough to hurt you, if you just touch a bit of wet rope."  
Fili picked up the hook when he had drawn it back, rather doubtfully all the same. This time he threw it with greater strength.

"Steady!" said Bilbo. "You have thrown it right into the wood on the other side now. Draw it back gently." Fili hauled the rope back slowly, and after a while Bilbo said: "Carefully! It is lying on the boat; let's hope the hook will catch."

It did. The rope went taut, and Fili pulled in vain. Kili came to his help, and then Óin and Glóin. They tugged and tugged, and suddenly they all fell over on their backs. Bilbo was on the lookout, however, caught the rope, and with a piece of stick fended off the little black boat as it came rushing across the stream. "Help!" he shouted, and Balin was just in time to seize the boat before it floated off down the current.

"It was tied after all." Said he, looking at the snapped painter that was still dangling from it. "That was a good pull, my lads; and a good job that our rope was the stronger."

"Who'll cross first?" asked Bilbo.

"I shall," said Thorin, "and you will come with me, and Fili and Balin. That's as many as the boat will hold at one time. After that Kili and Óin and Glóin and Dori; next Ori and Nori, Bifur and Bofur; and last Dwalin and Hannah and Bombur."

"I'm always last and I don't like it." said Bombur. "It's somebody else's turn today."

"You should not be so fat. As you are, you must be with the last and lightest boatload. Don't start grumbling against orders, or something bad will happen to you."

"There aren't any oars. How are you going to push the boat back to the far bank?" asked the hobbit.

"Give me another length of rope and another hook." Said Fili, and when they had got it ready, he cast into the darkness ahead and as high as he could throw it. Since it did not fall down again, they saw that it must have stuck in the branches. "Get in now," said Fili, "and one of you haul on the rope that is stuck in the tree on the other side. One of the others must keep hold of the hook we used at first, and then when we are safe on the other side he can hook it on, and you can draw the boat back."

In this way they were all soon on the far bank safe across the enchanted stream. Dwalin had just scrambled out with the coiled rope on his arm, and Bombur (still grumbling) was getting ready to follow, when something bad did happen. There was a flying sound of hooves on the path ahead. Out of the gloom came suddenly the shape of a flying deer. It charged right into the Dwarves and bowled them over, then gathered itself for a leap. High it sprang and cleared the water with a mighty jump. But it did not reach the other side in safety. Thorin was the only one who had kept his feet and his wits. As soon as they had landed he had bent his bow and fitted and arrow in case any hidden guardian of the boat appeared. Now he sent a swift and sure shot into the leaping beast. As it reached the further bank it stumbled. The shadows swallowed it up, but they heard the sounds of hooves quickly falter and then go still.  
Before they could shout in praise of the shot, however, a dreadful wail from Bilbo put all thoughts of venison out of their minds. "Bombur and Hannah have fallen in! They're drowning!" he cried. It was only too true. Bombur had only one foot on the land when the hart bore down on him, and sprang over him. He had stumbled, knocking the boat enough to upset the balance of Hannah, who had begun to stand and move towards the front of the boat, and send her crashing into the enchanted stream as the boat was thrust away from the bank; and he then toppled back into the dark water with her, his hands slipping off the slimy roots at the edge, while the empty boat span slowly off and disappeared.  
They could still see his hood above he water when they ran to the bank. Quickly they flung a rope with a hook towards him. His hand caught it, and they pulled him and Hannah, whom he had managed to grab by the hood of her cloak before she could be swept away, to the shore. They were both drenched from hair to boots, of course, but that was not the worst. When they laid the two on the bank they were already fast asleep. Hannah had lost consciousness within seconds of hitting the water, and would have most definitely drowned had Bombur not grabbed her cloak, which he was still gripping in one hand while he was clutching the rope in the other so tight that they could not get either from his grasp; and fast asleep they both remained in spite of all that they could do.  
They were still standing over them, cursing their ill luck, and Bombur's clumsiness, and lamenting over the loss of the boat which made it possible for them to go back and look for the hart, when they became aware of the dim blowing of horns in the wood and the sound as of dogs baying far off. Then they all fell silent; and as they sat it seemed they could hear the noise of a great hunt going by to the north of the path, though they saw no sign of it.  
They sat there for a long while and did not dare to make a move. Bombur and Hannah both slept on with smiles on their faces as if they no longer cared for all the troubles that vexed them. Suddenly on the path ahead appeared some white deer, a hind and fawns as snowy white as the hart had been dark. They glimmered in the shadows. Before Thorin could cry out three of the Dwarves had leaped to their feet and loosed arrows from their bows. None seemed to find their mark. The deer turned and vanished in the trees as silently as they had come, and in vain the Dwarves shot their arrows after them.

"Stop! Stop!" shouted Thorin; but it was too late, the excited Dwarves had wasted their last arrows, and now the bows that Beorn had given them were useless.  
they were a gloomy party that night, and the gloom gathered still deeper on them in the following days. They had crossed the enchanted stream; but beyond it the path seemed to straggle on just as before, and in the forest they could see no change. Yet if they had known more about it and considered the meaning of the hunt and the white deer that had appeared upon their path, they would have known that they were at last drawing towards the eastern edge, and would soon have come, if they could have kept their courage and their hope, to thinner trees and places where the sunlight came in again.  
But they did not know this, and they were burdened with the heavy body of Bombur, which they had to carry along with them as best they could, taking the wearisome task in turns of four each while the others shared their packs and took turns carrying the sleeping Hannah, who was thankfully light enough to be carried by only one. If these packs had not become all too light in the last few days, they would never have managed it; but a slumbering and smiling Bombur and Hannah were was a poor exchange for packs filled with food however heavy. A few of them began to wish that she had gone off with Gandalf instead of staying behind to add to their burden. In a few days a time came when there was practically nothing left to eat or drink. Nothing wholesome could they see growing in the woods, only funguses and herbs with pale leaves and unpleasant smell.  
About four days from the enchanted stream they came to a part where most of the trees were beeches. They were at first inclined to be cheered by the change, for here there was no undergrowth and the shadow was not so deep. There was a greenish light about them, and in places they could see some distance to either side of the path. Yet the light only showed them endless lines of straight grey trunks like the pillars of some huge twilight hall. There was a breath of air and a noise of wind, but it had a sad sound. A few leaves came rustling down to remind them that the outside autumn was coming on. Their feet ruffled among the dead leaves of countless other autumns that drifted over the banks of the path from the deep red carpets of the forest.  
Still Bombur and Hannah slept and they grew very weary. At times they heard disquieting laughter. Sometimes there was singing in the distance too. The laughter was the laughter of fair voices not of goblins, and the singing was beautiful, but it sounded eerie and strange, and they were not comforted, rather they hurried on from those paths with what strength they had left.  
Two days later they found their path going downwards and before long they were in a valley filled almost entirely with a mighty growth of oaks.

"Is there no end to this accursed forest?" said Thorin. "Somebody must climb a tree and see if he can get his head above the roof and have a look round. The only way is to choose the tallest tree that overhangs the path."

Of course "somebody" meant Bilbo. They chose him because to be of any use the climber must get his head above the topmost leaves, and so he must be light enough for the highest and slenderest branches to bear him. Poor Mr. Baggins had never had much practice in climbing trees, but they hoisted him up to the lowest branches of an enormous oak that grew right out into the path, and up he had to go as best he could. He pushed his way through the tangled twigs with many a slap in the eye; he was greened and grimed from the old bark of the greater boughs; more than once he slipped and caught himself just in time; and at last, after a dreadful struggle in a difficult place where there seemed to be no convenient branches at all, he got near the top. All the time he was wondering whether there were spiders in the tree, and how he was going to get down again (except by falling).  
In the end he poked his head above the roof of the leaves, and then he found spiders all right. But they were only small ones of ordinary size, and they were after the butterflies. Bilbo's eyes were nearly blinded by the light. He could hear the Dwarves shouting up at him from far below, but he could not answer, only hold on and blink. The sun was shining brilliantly, and it was a long while before he could bear it. when he could, he saw all round him a sea of dark green, ruffled here and there by the breeze; and there were everywhere hundreds of butterflies. I expect they were a kind of 'purple emperor', a butterfly that loves the tops of oak-woods, but these were not purple at all, they were a dark dark velvety black without any markings to be seen.  
He looked at the 'black emperors' for a long time, and enjoyed the feel of the breeze in his hair and on his face; but at length the cries of the Dwarves, who were now simply stamping with impatience down below, reminded him of his real business. It was no good. Gaze as much as he might, he could see no end to the trees and the leaves in any direction. His heart, that had been lightened by the sight of the sun and the feel of the wind, sank back into his toes: there was no food to go back to down below.  
Actually, they were not far off the edge of the forest; and if Bilbo had had the sense to see it, the tree that he had climbed, though it was tall in itself, was standing near the bottom of a wide valley, so that from its top the trees seemed to swell up all round like the edges of a great bowl, and he could not expect to see how far the forest lasted. Still he did not see this, and he climbed down full of despair. He got to the bottom again at last, scratched, hot, and miserable, and he could not see anything in the gloom below when he got there. His report soon made the others as miserable as he was.

"The forest goes on for ever and ever and ever in all directions! Whatever shall we do? And what is the use of sending a hobbit!" they cried, as if it was his fault. They did not care tuppence about the butterflies, and were only made more angry when he told them of the beautiful breeze, which they were too heavy to climb up and feel. Not for the first time Bilbo found himself wishing Hannah was still awake, for not only would she have appreciated his description of the butterflies, she would have undoubtedly scolded the Dwarves for their treatment of him and done her best to reassure everyone and keep their hopes up, for which Bilbo had neither enough energy nor spirit left.

That night they ate their very last scraps and crumbs of food; and the next morning when they woke the first thing they noticed was that they were still gnawingly hungry, and the next thing was that it was raining and there and there the drip of it was dropping heavily on the forest floor. That only reminded them that they were also parchingly thirsty, without doing anything to relieve them: you cannot quench a terrible thirst by standing under giant oaks and waiting for a chance drip to fall on your tongue. The only scrap of comfort there was came unexpectedly from Bombur and Hannah.  
They woke up suddenly and sat up scratching their heads and yawning. They could not make out where they were at all, nor why they felt so hungry; for Bombur had forgotten everything that had happened since the start of their journey that May morning long ago, and Hannah was little better off. The last thing he remembered was the party at the hobbit's house, and they had great difficulty in making him believe their tale of all the many adventures they had had since. Hannah was easier to persuade, for although she no longer had any memories of what came after, she still remembered everything up to the day of their departure in Rivendell; and having experienced stranger things (such as being mysteriously transported between different worlds), she did not think their story sounded too farfetched. But the news that there was no longer any food hit bot of them hard.  
When Bombur heard that there was nothing to eat, he sat down and wept, for he felt very weak and wobbly in the legs. "Why did I ever wake up!" he cried. "I was having such beautiful dreams. I dreamed I was walking in a forest rather like this one, only lit with torches on the trees and lamps swinging from branches and fires burning on the ground; and there was a great feast going on, going on forever. A woodland king was there with a crown of leaves, and there was a merry singing, and I could not count or describe the things there were to eat and drink."

"You need not try." Said Thorin. "In fact if you can't talk about something else, you had better be silent. We are quite annoyed enough with you as it is. If you hadn't woken up, we should have left you to your idiotic dreams in the forest; you are no joke to carry even after weeks of short commons."

There was nothing now to be done but to tighten the belts round their empty stomachs, and hoist their empty sacks and packs, and trudge along the track without any great hope of ever getting to the end before they lay down and died of starvation. This they did all that day, going very slowly and wearily, while Bombur kept on wailing that his legs would not carry him and that he wanted to lie down and sleep.

"No you don't!" they said. "Let your legs take your share, we have carried you far enough. Why can't you be more like Hannah? She's so weak with hunger her legs are shaking like a newborn lamb's, and you don't hear her complaining."

"By the way, what did you dream about?" Bilbo asked her curiously as they walked. Her expression as she slept had seemed quite blissful.

"My family." Hannah answered with a soft look of nostalgia in her eyes and a wan smile on her face. "I dreamt that I was back with my mother, father, brother, and grandparents. We were all together again, enjoying a spring picnic in the countryside." It had been just like old times, before everything started to go to pear-shaped, and their whole world went to hell in a hand-basket.  
Bombur suddenly refused to go a step further and flung himself on the ground.

"Go on, if you must." He said. "I'm just going to lie here and sleep and dream of food, if I can't get it any other way. I hope I never wake up again." At that very moment Balin, who was a little way ahead called out:

"What was that? I thought I saw a twinkle of light in the forest."

They all looked, and a longish way off, it seemed, they saw a red twinkle in the dark; then another and another sprang out beside it. Even Bombur got up, and they hurried along then, not caring if it was trolls or goblins. The light was in front of them and to the left of the path, and when at last they had drawn level with it, it seemed plain that torches and fires were burning under the trees, but a good way off their track.

"It looks as if my dreams were coming true!" gasped Bombur puffing up behind. He wanted to rush straight off into the wood after the lights. But the others remembered only too well the warnings of the wizard and of Beorn.

"A feast would be no good, if we never got back alive from it." said Thorin.

"But without a feast we shan't remain alive much longer anyway." Said Bombur, and Bilbo heartily agreed with him. They argued about it backwards and forwards for a long while, until they agreed at length to send out a couple of spies, to creep near the lights and find out more about them. But then they could not agree on who was to be sent: no one seemed anxious to run the chance of being lost and never finding his friends again, and Hannah was still against the idea of leaving the path for any reason after hearing how adamantly her mentor had warned against it. In the end, in spite of warnings, hunger decided them, because Bombur kept on describing all the good things that were being eaten, according to his dream, in the woodland feast; so they all left the path and plunged into the forest together, though Hannah insisted they at least tie the ropes together and tether one end to a tree on the path first so that they would be able to find their way back again in the dark.  
After a good deal of creeping and crawling, having just reached the very end of their rope, they peered round the trunks and looked into a clearing where some trees had been felled and the ground leveled. There were many people there, elvish-looking folk, all dressed in green and brown and sitting on sawn rings of the felled trees in a great circle. There was a fire in their midst and there were torches fastened to some of the trees round about; but most splendid sight of all: they were eating and drinking and laughing merrily.  
The smell of the roast meats was so enchanting that, without waiting to consult one another, everyone one of them got up and scrambled forwards into the ring with the one idea of begging for some food. No sooner had the first stepped into the clearing than all the lights went out as if by magic. Somebody kicked the fire and it went up in rockets of glittering sparks and vanished. They were lost in a completely lightless dark and they could not even find one another, not for a long tome at any rate. After blundering frantically in the gloom, falling over logs, bumping and crashing into trees, and shouting and calling till they must have waked everything in the forest for miles, at last they managed to gather themselves in a bundle and count themselves by touch. By that time they had, of course, quite forgotten in what direction the path lay, and as they had all let go of the rope leading back to it in their hurry, they were all hopelessly lost, at least until morning.  
There was nothing for it but to settle down for the night where they were; they did not even dare to search on the ground for scraps in fear of becoming separated again. But they had not been lying long, and Bilbo was only just getting drowsy, when Dori, whose turn it was to watch first, said in a loud whisper:

"The lights are coming out again over there, and there are even more than ever of them."

Up they all jumped. There, sure enough, not far away were scores of twinkling lights, and they heard the voices and laughter quite plainly. They crept slowly towards them, in a single line, each touching the back of the one in front. When they got near Thorin said: "No rushing forward this time! No one is to stir from hiding till I say. I shall send Hannah and Mr. Baggins alone first to talk to them. They won't be frightened of a young girl and a hobbit—('What about me of them?' thought Bilbo)—and Hannah has experience dealing with Elves, and any way I hope they won't do anything nasty to them."  
When they got to the edge of the circle of lights they pushed Bilbo and Hannah suddenly from behind. They stumbled forward into the full blaze of the fire and torches. It was no good. Out went all the lights again and complete darkness fell.  
If it had been difficult collecting themselves before, it was far worse this time. And they simply could not find the girl and the hobbit. Every time they counted themselves it only made thirteen. They shouted and called: "Bilbo Baggins! Hannah Hayes! Hobbit! Girl! You dratted hobbit! You useless apprentice! Hi! Hobbit and girl, confusticate you both, where are you?" and other things of that sort, but there was no answer.  
They were just giving up hope, when Dori stumbled across them by sheer luck. In the dark he fell over what he thought were logs, and he found they were the hobbit and the girl curled up fast asleep. It took a deal of shaking to wake them, and when Bilbo was awake he was not pleased at all.

"I was having such a lovely dream," he grumbled, "all about having a most gorgeous dinner."

"Good heavens! He has gone like Bombur." They said. "Don't tell us about dreams. Dream-dinners aren't any good, and we can't share them."

"They are the best I am likely to get in this beastly place." He muttered, as he lay down beside Hannah and the Dwarves and tried to go back to sleep and find his dream again.

But that was not the last of the lights in the forest. Later when the night must have been getting old, Kili who was watching then, came and roused them all again, saying:

"There's a regular blaze of light begun not far away—hundreds of torches and many fires must have been lit suddenly and by magic. And hark to the singing and the harps!"

After lying and listening for a while, they found they could not resist the desire to go nearer and try once more to get help. Up they got again; and this time the result was disastrous. The feast that they now saw was greater and more magnificent than before; and at the head of a long line of feasters sat a woodland king with a crown of leaves upon his golden hair, very much as Bombur had described the figure in his dream. Seated nearest to his right hand was another almost equally regal golden-haired Elf, who wore a circlet upon his brow, and bore a great physical resemblance to the king. Hannah guessed this younger Elf was most likely the king's son and prince of the woodland. The other Elvish folk were passing bowls from hand to hand and across the fires, and some were harping and many were singing. Their gleaming hair was twined with flowers; green and white gems glinted on their collars and their belts; and their faces and their songs were filled with mirth. Loud and clear and fair were those songs, and out stepped Thorin into their midst.  
Dead silence fell in the middle of a word. Out went all light. The fires leaped up in black smokes. Ashes and cinders were in the eyes of the Dwarves, and the wood was filled again with their clamor and their cries.  
Hannah found herself running round and round (as she thought) and calling and calling: "Bilbo, Dori, Nori, Ori, Óin, Glóin, Fili, Kili, Bombur, Dwalin, Balin, Thorin Oakenshield," while people she could not see or feel were doing the same all round her (with the occasional "Hannah!" thrown in). As the cries of the others grew steadily closer and louder, the hairs on the back of Hannah's neck stood up and a sense of immediate danger crept over her. Something like a long sticky thread brushed against her, and to her horror she realized she knew what it was. Hannah immediately drew her dagger, but it did her little good.  
Bilbo, who had become separated from the rest of the company heard as the others' faint voices seemed to change to yells and cries for help in the far distance, until all noise at last died right away, and he was left alone in complete silence and darkness.


	13. Chapter 13

**Previously:**

_Dead silence fell in the middle of a word. Out went all light. The fires leaped up in black smokes. Ashes and cinders were in the eyes of the Dwarves, and the wood was filled again with their clamor and their cries._  
_Hannah found herself running round and round (as she thought) and calling and calling: "Bilbo, Dori, Nori, Ori, Óin, Glóin, Fili, Kili, Bombur, Dwalin, Balin, Thorin Oakenshield," while people she could not see or feel were doing the same all round her (with the occasional "Hannah!" thrown in). As the cries of the others grew steadily closer and louder, the hairs on the back of Hannah's neck stood up and a sense of immediate danger crept over her. Something like a long sticky thread brushed against her, and to her horror she realized she knew what it was. Hannah immediately drew her dagger, but it did her little good._  
_Bilbo, who had become separated from the rest of the company heard as the others' faint voices seemed to change to yells and cries for help in the far distance, until all noise at last died right away, and he was left alone in complete silence and darkness._

* * *

**Chapter 13: Flies and Spiders**

* * *

That was one of Bilbo's most miserable moments. But he soon made up his mind that it was no good trying to do anything till day came with some little light, and quite useless to go blundering about tiring himself out with no hope of any breakfast to revive him. So he sat himself down with his back to a tree, and not for the last time fell to thinking of his far-distant hobbit hole with its beautiful pantries. He was deep in thoughts of bacon and eggs and toast and butter when he felt something touch him. Something like a strong sticky string was against his left hand, and when he tried to move he found that his legs were already wrapped in the same stuff, so that when he got up he fell over.  
Then the great spider, who had been busy tying him up while he dozed, came from behind him and came at him. He could only see the thing's eyes, but he could feel its hairy legs as it struggled to wind its abominable threads round and round him. It was lucky that he had come to his senses in time. Soon he would not have been able to move at all. As it was, he had a desperate fight before he got free. He beat the creature off with his hands—it was trying to poison him to keep him quiet, as small spiders do to flies—until he remembered his sword and drew it out. Then the spider jumped back, and he had time to cut his legs loose. After that it was his turn to attack. The spider evidently was not used to things that carried such stings at their sides, or it would have hurried away quicker. Bilbo came at it before it could disappear and struck it with his sword right in the eyes. Then it went mad and leaped and danced and flung out its legs in horrible jerks, until he killed it with another stroke; and he fell down and remembered nothing more for a while.  
There was the usual grey light of the forest-day about him as he came to his senses. The spider lay dead beside him, and his sword-blade was stained black. Somehow the killing of the giant spider, all alone by himself in the dark without the help of the wizard or the Dwarves or of anyone else, made a great difference to Mr. Baggins. He felt a different person, and much fiercer and bolder in spite of an empty stomach, as he wiped his sword on the grass and put it back into its sheath.

"I will give you a name," he said to it, "and I shall call you _Sting_."

After that he set out to explore. The forest was grim and silent, but obviously he had first of all to look for his friends, who were not likely to be very far off, unless they had been made prisoners by the elves (or far worse things). Bilbo felt that it was unsafe to shout, and he stood a good long while wondering in what direction the path lay, and in what direction he should go first to look for Hannah and the Dwarves.

"Oh, why did we not remember Beorn's advice, and Gandalf's!" he lamented. "What a mess we are in now! We! I only wish it was a _we_: it is horrible being all alone."

In the end he made as good a guess as he could at the direction from which the cries for help had come in the night—and by luck (he was born with a good share of it) he guessed more or less right, as you will see. Having made up his mind he crept along as cleverly as he could. Hobbits are clever at quietness, especially in the woods: also Bilbo had slipped on his ring before he started. That is why the spiders neither saw nor heard him coming.  
He had picked his way stealthily for some distance, when he noticed a place of dense black shadow ahead of him black even for that forest, like a patch of midnight that had never been cleared away. As he drew nearer, he saw that it was made by spider-webs one behind and one over and tangled with another. Suddenly he saw, too, that there were spiders huge and horrible sitting in the branches above him, and ring or no ring he trembled in fear lest they should discover him. Standing behind a tree he watched a group of them for some time, and then in the silence and stillness of the wood he realized that these loathsome creatures were speaking to one another. Their voices were a sort of thin creaking and hissing, but he could make out many of the words that they said. They were talking about the Dwarves and Hannah!

"It was a sharp struggle, but worth it." said one. "What nasty thick skins they have to be sure, but I'll wager there is good juice inside."

"Aye, they'll make fine eating, when they've hung a bit," said another, "and the girl, with such soft skin, should be nice and tender: it's been a while since we've had such a sweet treat!"

"Don't hang 'em too long." Said a third. "They're not as fat as they might be. Been feeding none too well of late, I should guess."

"Kill 'em I say," hissed a fourth; "kill 'em now and hang 'em dead for a while."

"They're dead now, I'll warrant." Said the first.

"They are not. I saw one a-struggling just now. Just coming round again, I should say, after a beautiful sleep. I'll show you."

With that one of the fat spiders ran along a rope, till it came to a baker's dozen of bundles hanging in a row from a high branch. Bilbo was horrified, now that he noticed them for the first time dangling in the shadows, to see a dwarvish foot sticking out of the bottoms of some of the bundles, or here and there the tip of a nose, or a bit of beard or of a hood.  
To the fattest of these bundles the spider went—'It is poor old Bombur, I'll bet,' thought Bilbo—and nipped hard at the nose that stuck out. There was a muffled yelp inside, and a toe shot up and kicked the spider straight and hard. There was life in Bombur still. There was a noise like the kicking of a flabby football, and the enraged spider fell off the branch, only catching itself with its own thread just in time.  
The others laughed. "You were quite right," they said, "the meat's alive and kicking!"

"I'll soon put an end to that!" hissed the angry spider climbing back onto the branch.

Bilbo saw that the moment had come when he must do something. He could not get up at the brutes and he had nothing to shoot with; but looking about he saw that in this place there were many stones lying in what appeared to be a now dry little watercourse. Bilbo was a pretty fair shot with a stone, and it did not take him long to find a nice smooth egg-shaped one that fitted his hand cozily. As a boy he used to practice throwing stones at things, until rabbits and squirrels, and even birds, got out of his way as quick as lightning if they saw him stoop; and even grownup he had still spent a great deal of his time at quoits, dart-throwing, shooting at the wand, bowls, ninepins, and other quiet games of the aiming and throwing sort—indeed he could do lots of things, besides blowing smoke-rings, asking riddles and cooking, that I haven't had time to tell you about. There is no time now. While he was picking up stones, the spider had reached Bombur, and soon he would have been dead. At that moment Bilbo threw. The stone struck the spider plunk on the head, and it dropped senseless off the tree, flop to the ground, with all its legs curled up.  
The next stone went whizzing through a big web, snapping its cords, and taking off the spider siting in the middle of it, whack, dead. After that there was a deal of commotion in the spider-colony, and they forgot the Dwarves for a bit, I can tell you. They could not see Bilbo, but they could make a good guess at the direction from which the stones were coming. As quick as lightning they came running and swinging towards the hobbit, flinging out their long threads in all directions, till the air seemed full of waving snares.  
Bilbo, however, soon slipped away to a different place. The idea came to him to lead the furious spiders further and further away from the Dwarves and Hannah, if he could; to make them curious, excited and angry all at once. When about fifty had gone off to the place he had stood before, he threw some more stones at these, and at others that had stopped behind; and then dancing among the trees he began to sing a song to infuriate them and bring them all after him, and also to let the Dwarves and Hannah hear his voice.  
This is what he sang:

_Old fat spider spinning in a tree!  
Old fat spider can't see me!  
Attercop! Attercop!  
Won't you stop,  
Stop your spinning and look at me!_

_Old Tomnoddy, all big body,  
Old Tomnoddy can't spy me!  
Attercop! Attercop!  
Down you drop!  
You'll never catch me up your tree!_

Not very good perhaps, but then you must remember that he had to make it up himself, on the spur of a very awkward moment. It did what he wanted anyway. As he sang he threw some more stones and stamped. Practically all the spiders in the place came after him: some dropped to the ground, others raced along the branches, swung from tree to tree, or cast new ropes across the dark spaces. They made for his noise far quicker than he had expected. They were frightfully angry. Quite apart from the stones no spider has ever liked being called Attercop, and Tomnoddy of course is insulting to anybody.  
Off Bilbo scuttled to a fresh place, but several of the spiders had now run to different points in the glade where they lived, and were busy spinning webs across all the spaces between the tree-stems. Very soon the hobbit would be caught in a thick fence of them all round him—that at least was the spiders' idea. Standing now in the middle of the hunting and spinning insects Bilbo plucked up his courage and began a new song:

_Lazy Lob and crazy Cob  
are weaving webs to wind me.  
I am far more sweet than other meat,  
but still they cannot find me!_

_Here am I, naughty little fly;  
you are fat and lazy.  
You cannot trap me, though you try,  
in your cobwebs crazy._

With that he turned and found that the last space between two tall trees had been closed with a web—but luckily not a proper web, only great strands of double-thick spider-rope run hastily backwards and forwards from trunk to trunk. Out came his little sword. He slashed the threads to pieces and went off singing.  
The spiders saw the web being cut, though I don't suppose they knew what it was, and at once the whole lot of them came hurrying after the hobbit along the ground and the branches, hairy legs waving, nippers and spinners snapping, eyes popping, full of froth and rage. They followed him into the forest until Bilbo had gone as far as he dared. Then quieter than a mouse he stole back.  
He had precious little time, he knew, before the spiders were disgusted and came back to their trees where the Dwarves and Hannah were hung. In the meanwhile he had to rescue them. The worst part of the job was getting up to the long branch where the bundles were dangling. I don't suppose he would have managed it, if a spider had not luckily left a rope hanging down; with its help, though it stuck to his hand and hurt him, he scrambled up—only to meet an old slow wicked fat-bodied spider who had remained behind to guard the prisoners, and had been busy pinching them to see which was the juiciest to eat. It had thought of starting the feast while the others were away, but Mr. Baggins was in a hurry, and before the spider knew what was happening it felt his sting and rolled off the branch dead.  
Bilbo's next job was to loose a Dwarf. What was he to do? If he cut the string which hung him up, the wretched Dwarf would tumble thump to the ground a good way below. Wriggling along the branch (which made all the poor Dwarves and Hannah dance and dangle like ripe fruit) he reached the first bundle.  
'Fili or Kili,' he thought; 'Most likely Fili,' seeing the tip of a long nose poking out of the winding threads. He managed by leaning over to cut most of the strong sticky threads that bound him round, and then, sure enough, with a kick and a struggle most of Fili emerged. I am afraid Bilbo actually laughed at the sight of him jerking his stiff arms and legs as he danced on the spider-string under his armpits, just like one of those funny toys bobbing on a wire.  
Somehow or other Fili was got on to the branch, and then he did his best to help the hobbit, although he was feeling very sick and ill from spider-poison, and from hanging most of the night and the next day wound round and round with only his nose to breathe through. It took him ages to get the beastly stuff out of his eyes and eyebrows, and as for his beard, he had to cut most of it off. Well, between them they started to haul up first one Dwarf and then another and slash them free. None of them were better off than Fili, and some of them were worse. Some had hardly been able to breathe at all (long noses are sometimes useful you see), and some had been more poisoned.  
In this way they rescued Kili, Bifur, Bofur, Dori, and Nori. Poor old Bombur was so exhausted—he was the fattest and had been constantly pinched and poked—that he just rolled off the branch and fell plop on to the ground, fortunately on to leaves, and lay there. The next bundle was revealed to be a deathly pale and a barely conscious Hannah, and they found that the poor girl was the worst off of all: not only had she been poisoned terribly and nearly smothered to death by the webs, but she had fought back so fiercely during her struggle to avoid capture that the spider had dropped her from a height, and they suspected one of her legs was broken. They wanted to bind it for her; but there were still five Dwarves hanging at the end of the branch when the spiders began to come back, more full of rage than ever.  
Bilbo immediately went to the end of the branch nearest the tree-trunk and kept back those that crawled up. He had taken off his ring when he rescued Fili and forgotten to put it on again, so now they all began to sputter and hiss:

"Now we see you, you nasty little creature! We will eat you and leave your bones and skin hanging on a tree. Ugh! He's got a sting has he! Well, we'll get him all the same, and then hang him downwards for a day or two."

While this was going on, the other Dwarves were working at the rest of the captives, and cutting at the threads with their knives. Soon all would be free, though it was not clear what would happen after that. The spiders had caught them pretty easily the night before, but that had been unawares and in the dark. This time there looked like being a horrible battle.  
Suddenly Bilbo noticed that some of the spiders had gathered round old Bombur on the floor, and had tied him up again and were dragging him away. He gave a shout and slashed at the spiders in front of him. They quickly gave way, and he scrambled and fell down the tree right into the middle of those on the ground. His little sword was something new in the way of stings for them. Half a dozen were killed before the rest drew off and left Bombur to Bilbo.

"Come down! Come down!" he shouted to the Dwarves and Hannah on the branch. "Don't stay up there to be netted!" For he saw spiders swarming up all the neighboring trees, and crawling along the boughs above their heads.  
Down the Dwarves scrambled or jumped or dropped, ten of them all in a heap, most of them very shaky and little use on their legs. There they were at last, twelve of them counting Dori, who had scrambled down more slowly with the poor injured and ill Hannah clinging to his back, and poor old Bombur, who was being propped up on either side by his cousin Bifur, and his brother Bofur; and Bilbo was dancing about and waving his Sting; and hundreds of angry spiders were goggling at them all round and about and above. It looked pretty hopeless.  
Then the battle began. Some of the Dwarves had knives, and some had sticks, and all of them could get at stones; and Bilbo had his elvish dagger (Hannah had unfortunately lost hers when she was dropped in the dark). Again and again the spiders were beaten off, and many of them were killed. But it could not go on for long. Bilbo was nearly tired out; only four of the Dwarves were able to stand firmly, and soon they would all be overpowered like weary flies. Already the spiders were beginning to weave their webs all round them again from tree to tree.  
In the end Bilbo could think of no plan except to let the Dwarves and Hannah into the secret of his ring. He was rather sorry about it, but it could not be helped.

"I am going to disappear," he said. "I shall draw the spiders off, if I can; and you must keep together and make in the opposite direction. To the left there, that is more or less the place where we last saw the elf-fires."

It was difficult to get them to understand, what with their dizzy heads, and the shouts, and the whacking of sticks and the throwing of stones; but at last Bilbo felt he could delay no longer—the spiders were drawing their circle ever closer. He suddenly slipped on his ring, and to the great astonishment of the Dwarves and Hannah he vanished.  
Soon there came the sound of "Lazy Lob" and "Attercop" from among the trees away on the right. That upset the spiders greatly. They stopped advancing, and some went off in the direction of the voice. "Attercop" made them so angry that they lost their wits. Then Balin, who had grasped Bilbo's plan better than the rest, led an attack. The Dwarves and Hannah huddled together in a knot, and sending a shower of stones they drove at the spiders on the left, and burst through the ring. Away behind them now the shouting and singing suddenly stopped.  
Hoping desperately that Bilbo had not been caught they went on. Not fast enough, though. They were sick and weary, and they could not go much better than a hobble and a wobble, though many of the spiders were close behind. Every now and then they had to turn and fight the creatures that were overtaking them and already some spiders were in the trees above them and throwing down their long clinging threads.  
Things were looking pretty bad again, when suddenly Bilbo appeared and charged into the astonished spiders unexpectedly from the side.

"Go on! Go on!" he shouted. "I will do the stinging!"

And he did. He darted backwards and forwards, slashing at spider-threads, hacking at their legs, and stabbing at their fat bodies if they came too near. The spiders swelled with rage, and spluttered and frothed, and hissed out horrible curses; but they had become mortally afraid of Sting, and dared not come very near, now that it had come back. So curse as they would, their prey moved slowly but steadily away. It was a most terrible business, and seemed to take hours. But at last, just when Bilbo felt that he could not lift his hand for a single stroke more, the spiders suddenly gave it up, and followed no more, but went back disappointed to their dark colony.  
The Dwarves and Hannah then noticed they had come to the edge of a ring where elf-fires had been. Whether it was one of those they had seen the night before, they could not tell. But it seemed that some good magic lingered in such spots, which the spiders did not like. At any rate here the light was greener, and the boughs less thick and threatening, and they had a chance to rest and draw breath.  
There they lay for some time, puffing and panting. But very soon they began to ask questions. They had to have the whole vanishing business carefully explained, and the finding of the ring interested them so much that for a while they forgot their own troubles. Balin in particular insisted on having the Gollum story, riddles and all, told all over again, with the ring in its proper place. But after a time the light began to fail, and then other questions were asked. Where were they, and where was their path, and where was there any food, and what were they going to do next? These questions they asked over and over again, and it was from little Bilbo that they seemed to expect to get the answers. From which you can see that the Dwarves had changed their opinion of Mr. Baggins very much, and had begun to have a great respect for him (as Gandalf said they would). Indeed they really expected him to think of some wonderful plan for helping them, and were not merely grumbling. They knew all too well that they would soon all have been dead, if it had not been for the hobbit; and they and Hannah thanked him many times. Some of the Dwarves even got up and bowed right to the ground before him, though they fell over with the effort, and could not get on their legs again for some time. Knowing the truth about the vanishing did not lessen their opinion of Bilbo at all; for they saw that he had some wits, as well as luck and a magic ring—and all three are very useful possessions. In fact they praised him so much that Bilbo began to feel that there really was something of a bold adventurer about himself after all, though he would have felt a lot bolder still, if there had been anything to eat.  
But there was nothing, nothing at all; none of them were fit to go and look for anything, or to search for the lost path (least of all Hannah, who was still muddled from poison, and was beginning to feel a bit feverish). The lost path! No other idea would come into Bilbo's tired head. He just sat staring in front of him at the endless trees; and after a while they all fell silent again. All except Balin. Long after the others had stopped talking and shut their eyes, he kept on muttering and chuckling to himself.

"Gollum! Well I'm blest! So that's how he sneaked past me is it? Now I know! Just crept along quietly did you, Mr. Baggins? Buttons all over the doorstep! Good old Bilbo—Bilbo—Bilbo—bo—bo—bo—" And then he fell asleep, and there was complete silence for a long time.

All of a sudden Dwalin opened an eye, and looked round at them. "Where is Thorin?" he asked.  
It was a terrible shock. Of course there were only fourteen of them, twelve Dwarves and the hobbit and Hannah. Where indeed was Thorin? They wondered what evil fate had befallen him, magic or dark monsters; and shuddered as they lay lost in the forest. There they dropped off one by one into uncomfortable sleep full of horrible dreams, as evening wore to black night; and there we must leave them for the present, too sick and weary to set guards or take turns watching.

Thorin had been caught much faster than they had. You remember Bilbo and Hannah falling like logs into sleep, as they stepped into a circle of light? The next time it had been Thorin who stepped forward, and as the lights went out he fell like a stone enchanted. All the noise of the Dwarves lost in the night, their cries as the spiders caught them and bound them, and all the sounds of the battle next day, had passed over him unheard. Then the Wood-elves had come to him, and bound him, and carried him away.  
The feasting people were wood-elves, of course. These are not wicked folk. If they have a fault it is distrust of strangers. Though their magic was strong, even in those days they were wary. They differed from the High Elves of the West, and were more dangerous and less wise. For most of them (together with their scattered relations in the hills and mountains) were descended from the ancient tribes that never attempted the Great Journey (or the Great March as some called it) to Valinor in Aman in the West. There the Light-elves and the Deep-elves and the Sea-elves went and lived for ages, and grew fairer and wiser and more learned, and invented their magic and their cunning craft in the making of beautiful and marvelous things, before some came back into the Wide World. In the Wide World the Wood-elves lingered in the twilight of our Sun and Moon but loved best the stars; and they wandered in the great forests that grew tall in lands that are now lost. They dwelt most often by the edges of the woods, from which they could escape at times to hunt, or ride and run over the open lands by moonlight or starlight; and after the coming of Men they took even more and more to the gloaming and the dusk. Still, Elves they were and remain, and that is Good People.  
In a great cave some miles within the edge of Mirkwood on its eastern side there lived at this time their greatest king. Before his huge doors of stone a river ran out of the heights of the forest and flowed on and out into the marshes at the feet of the high wooded lands. This great cave, from which countless smaller ones opened out on every side, wound far underground and had many passages and wide halls; but it was lighter and more wholesome than any goblin-dwelling, and neither so deep nor so dangerous. In fact the subjects of the king mostly lived and hunted in the open woods, and had houses or huts on the ground and in the branches. The beeches were their favorite trees. The king's cave was his palace, and the strong place of his treasure, and the fortress of his people against their enemies.  
It was also the dungeon of his prisoners. So to the cave they dragged Thorin—not too gently, for they did not love Dwarves, and he thought he was an enemy. In ancient days they had wars with some of the Dwarves, whom they accused of stealing their treasure. It is only fair to say that the Dwarves gave a different account, and said that they only took what was their due, for the elf-king had bargained with them to shape his raw gold and silver, and had afterwards refused to give them their pay. If the elf-king had a weakness it was for treasure, especially for silver and white gems; and though his hoard was rich, he was ever eager for more, since he had not yet as great a treasure as other elf-lords of old. His people neither mined nor worked metals or jewels, nor did they bother much with trade or with tilling the earth. All this was well known to every Dwarf, especially Thorin's family, who had been the other party in the old quarrel I have spoken of. But faith had been broken on both sides. The Dwarves of Erebor once had an alliance with the elf-king Thranduil and his people; but no help came from the Elves that day when Smaug attacked the Lonely Mountain, for Thranduil would not risk the lives of his own people against the Dragon's wrath. Consequently Thorin was angry at their treatment of him, when they took their spell off him and he came to his senses; and also he was determined that no word of gold or jewels should be dragged out of him.  
The king looked sternly at Thorin, when he was brought before him, and asked him many questions. But Thorin would only say that he was starving.

"Why did you and your folk three times try to attack my people at their merrymaking?" asked the elf-king.

"We did not attack them," answered Thorin; "we came to beg, because we were starving."

"Where are your friends now, and what are they doing?"

"I don't know, but I expect starving in the forest."

"What were you doing in the forest?"

"Looking for food and drink, because we were starving."

"But what brought you into the forest at all?" asked the elf-king angrily.

At that Thorin shut his mouth and would not say another word.

"This is an ancient Elvish blade. Forged by my kin." Said Thranduil, examining Orcrist, which had been taken from the Dwarf while he slept. "Where did you get this?"

"It was given to me." Said Thorin.

"Not just a thief, but a liar as well." This was a very famous blade, not something to given or received lightly. Thranduil found it hard to believe that it could have made its way into the hands of Dwarf through any such legitimate means. "Very well!" said Thranduil, handing the sword back to his son. "Take him away and keep him safe, until he feels inclined to tell the truth, even if he waits a hundred years."

Then the Elves bound him, and shut him in one of the inmost caves with strong barred doors, and left him. They gave him food and drink, plenty of both, if not very fine; for Wood-elves were not Goblins, and were reasonably well-behaved to even their worst enemies, when they captured them. The giant spiders were the only living things that they had no mercy upon.  
There in Thranduil's dungeon poor Thorin lay; and after he had got over his thankfulness for bread and meat and water, he began to wonder what had become of his unfortunate friends. It was not very long before he discovered; but that belongs to the next chapter and the beginning of another adventure in which the hobbit again showed his usefulness.


	14. Chapter 14

**Previously:**

_"This is an ancient Elvish blade. Forged by my kin." Said Thranduil, examining Orcrist, which had been taken from the Dwarf while he slept. "Where did you get this?"_

_"It was given to me." Said Thorin._

_"Not just a thief, but a liar as well." This was a very famous blade, not something to given or received lightly. Thranduil found it hard to believe that it could have made its way into the hands of Dwarf through any such legitimate means. "Very well!" said Thranduil, handing the sword back to his son. "Take him away and keep him safe, until he feels inclined to tell the truth, even if he waits a hundred years."_

_Then the Elves bound him, and shut him in one of the inmost caves with strong barred doors, and left him. They gave him food and drink, plenty of both, if not very fine; for Wood-elves were not Goblins, and were reasonably well-behaved to even their worst enemies, when they captured them. The giant spiders were the only living things that they had no mercy upon._  
_There in Thranduil's dungeon poor Thorin lay; and after he had got over his thankfulness for bread and meat and water, he began to wonder what had become of his unfortunate friends. It was not very long before he discovered; but that belongs to the next chapter and the beginning of another adventure in which the hobbit again showed his usefulness._

* * *

**Chapter 14: The Elvenking of Mirkwood**

* * *

The day after the battle with the spiders Bilbo and the Dwarves made one last despairing effort to find away out before they died of hunger and thirst. Hannah, whose condition had worsened over night, could be roused by any measure, and they were beginning to fear for her life. They got up and staggered on while carrying her in the direction which eight out of the thirteen of them guessed to be the one in which the path lay; but they never found out if they were right. Such day as there ever was in the forest was fading once more into the blackness of night, and Hannah still showed no sign of waking, when suddenly out sprang the light of many torches all round them, like hundreds of red stars. Out leaped Wood-elves with their bows and spears and called the Dwarves to halt.  
"Do not think I will not kill you, Dwarf." Said the elf-prince they had seen at the feast with his bow aimed at Dwalin. "It would be my pleasure." He then gave an order for all the Dwarves to be searched.

"B'ey! Give it back! That's private!" protested Glóin when the elf-prince removed two small portraits he was carrying from his person.

"Who is this?" asked the prince curiously. "Your brother?"

"That is my wife!" huffed Glóin indignantly.

"And what is this horrid creature? A goblin-mutant?"

"That's my wee lad, Gimli!"

Despite Glóin's complaints against these thoughtless insults to his family, there was no thought of a fight. Even if the Dwarves had not been in such a state that they were actually glad to be captured, their small knives, the only weapons they had, would have been of no use against the arrows of the Elves that could hit a bird's eye in the dark. So they simply stopped dead and sat down and waited—all except Hannah, who was still unconscious and was ordered to be carried by one of the Elves, and Bilbo, who popped on his ring and slipped quickly to one side. That is why, when the Elves bound the Dwarves in a long line, one behind the other, and counted them, they never found or counted the hobbit.  
Nor did they hear or feel him trotting along well behind their torch-light as they led off their prisoners into the forest. Each Dwarf was blindfolded, but that did not make much difference, for even Bilbo with the full use of his eyes could not see where they were going, and neither he nor the others knew where they had started from anyway. Bilbo had all he could do to keep up with the torches, for the Elves were making the Dwarves go as fast as ever they could, sick and weary as they were. The king had ordered them to make haste. Suddenly the torches stopped, and the hobbit had just time to catch them up before they began to cross the bridge. This was the bridge that led across the river to the king's doors. The water flowed dark and swift and strong beneath; and at the far end were gates before the mouth of a huge cave that ran into the side of a steep slope covered with trees. There the great beeches came right down to the bank, till their feet were in the stream.  
Across this bridge the Elves thrust their prisoners, but Bilbo hesitated in the rear. He did not at all like the look of the cavern-mouth and he only made up his mind not to desert his friends just in time to scuttle over at the heels of the last Elves, before the great gates of the king closed behind them with a clang.  
Inside the passages were lit with red torch-light, and the elf-guards sang as they marched along the twisting, crossing, and echoing paths. These were not like those of the goblin-cities: they were smaller, less deep underground and filled with cleaner air. In a great hall with pillars hewn out of living stone sat the Elvenking on a throne carven wood. On his head was a crown of berries and red leaves, for the autumn was come again. In the spring he wore a crown of woodland flowers. In his hand he held a carven staff of oak.  
The prisoners were brought before him; and though he looked grimly at them, he quickly had Hannah taken away to receive proper care upon seeing the terrible state the child was in, and told his men to unbind the Dwarves, for they were ragged and weary. "Besides they need no ropes in here." Said he. "There is no escape from my magic doors for those who are once brought inside."  
Long and searchingly he questioned the Dwarves about their doings, and where they were going to, and where they were coming from; but he got little more news out of them than out of Thorin. They were surly and angry and did not even pretend to be polite.

"What have we done, O king?" said Balin. "Is it a crime to be lost in the forest, to be hungry and thirsty, to be trapped by spiders? Are the spiders your tame beasts or your pests, if killing them makes you so angry?"

Such a question of course made the king angrier than ever, and he answered: "It is a crime to wander in my realm without leave. Do you forget that you were in my kingdom, using the road my people made? Did you not three times pursue and trouble my people in the forest and rouse the spiders with your riot and clamor? After all the disturbance you have made I have a right to know what brings you here, and if you will not tell me now, I will keep you all in prison until you have learned sense and manners!" Then he ordered the Dwarves each to be put in a separate cell and to be given food and drink, but not to be allowed to pass the doors of their little prisons, until at least one of them was willing to tell him all he wanted to know. But he did not tell them that Thorin was also a prisoner with him. It was Hannah and Bilbo who found that out.  
When she finally rejoined the waking world, to say that Hannah was surprised by the change in her surroundings would be an understatement. The first thing she noticed was that she appeared to be in a well-lit room that was part of some sort of cave or underground dwelling, because the walls were made of stone, still rough and retaining its natural shape in some places while smooth and intricately carved in others. For a brief moment she wondered if she might be in some Dwarvish dwelling, but the architectural motifs seemed to have more of an Elvish aesthetic to them. The next thing she took notice of was that her broken leg had been properly set and bound—all of her wounds, even the most minor, had been treated with expert skill—and she was no longer in pain. She was just about to try calling out for someone, to ask where she was and what was going on, when the door opened. In walked the Elvenking himself. Though she had caught a glimpse of him the night of the feast in the forest, the dim torch-light had not done him justice. But now he stood before her in his full glory.  
Hannah stared in awe: never before had she seen such a beautiful creature, even amongst the most lovely of the ethereal and graceful Elves of Rivendell. But behind the gracious smile he favored her with, there seemed a lonely and strict aloofness that reminded her of a white rose frosted with wintry ice.

"I see you have finally awakened. Good. I had heard your fever was gone." Said the king drawing close to her bedside. His keen and ancient eyes regarded her with an intense stare. He did not know why a child of Man was traveling with a troop of Dwarves, but Thranduil thought he could perhaps obtain the answers that her companions had refused to give from her. "You seem to be healing nicely."

"Yes, thank you." Hannah answered a bit nervously but respectfully, quickly shutting her gaping mouth. "Um, that is if you wouldn't mind, could you please tell me where I am?"

"I shall answer your questions, if you will answer mine." Said the king calmly, crossing his legs as he took a seat.

"That sounds fair enough." Said Hannah after taking a brief moment to think it over. "What would you like to know?"

"Perhaps we should start with your name?" the king suggested.

"Hannah Hayes, your majesty." She answered politely with a bow of her head. "And you?"

"I am King Thranduil, ruler of this woodland realm; and I would like to know why you and your Dwarvish companions were wandering through my kingdom without leave."

"I must beg your pardon if we have offended you, but we meant no harm by it. It was never our intention to trespass. We were looking for a safe passage east: we heard the mountains to the north are infested with Goblins, and felt the passage south would bring us to close to the territory of the Necromancer. We thought it safer to try using a path that was less traveled, and had hoped that by using an elven-path the virtue of the Elves might offer us some form of protection. Are the others all right?"

"You need not be concerned, they are being kept safe. But three times you attempted to pursue and trouble my people in the forest. Why?"

"I am embarrassed to admit it, but we were desperate. We had underestimated the forest, and by that time we had been out of food for sometime. We meant no harm and only wished to ask for a bit of food and something to drink, but were so starving and thirsty that we completely forgot our manners." Hannah explained a bit sheepishly. Her empty stomach chose that moment to growl as if wishing to emphasize her point. Thranduil called out to someone outside the room in Elvish to have some refreshments brought for the starving child. Hannah head what sounded like the clinking of armor as they moved to fulfill the Elvenking's order.

"May I ask where my friends are?" She asked wondering if she was being guarded.

"The Dwarves are here," answered the king upon seeing the look of great concern on her young face, though his expression seemed guarded; "all twelve of them."

"Twelve?" said Hannah with a furrowed brow, wondering what had become of Bilbo but not sure whether or not it was a good idea to alert the king to his presence. She was beginning to get the feeling that the situation they were in was more serious than she had suspected. "You didn't happen to find a thirteenth, did you?" she asked carefully. "We've all been terribly worried something dreadful may have happened to him."

"I shall be happy to give you an answer if you can tell me this: why is a young girl like you traveling with a group of Dwarves, and why were you headed east in the first place?"

"I am traveling with them because I want to, and we are going east, because that is where their home lies." She replied a bit hesitantly, hoping she wasn't giving too much away. She knew it would probably be unwise to reveal the full details of their quest to a complete stranger, but she felt it would be dangerous to lie the Elvenking seated in front of her. Thranduil stared at the girl for a moment. His eyes widened imperceptibly in surprise as something clicked, and all that had transpired suddenly made much more sense to him. He stood up to leave.

"In answer to your question: yes, we did find a thirteenth Dwarf." The king informed her. He was not so cruel as to taunt a child with such dear information and then leave her in distress. "He is also here."

"Where are they? Can I see them? Your majesty!" Hannah called after him as he suddenly swept from the room without so much as a backward glance. The king had what he needed.

Changed by age and the burden of many cares, the Elvenking had not recognized the young Dwarf once knew in his current sorry and wretched state. But looking at him again more closely Thranduil was now certain. Thorin Oakenshield had returned, and the Elvenking was sure he knew the reason.

"Well, why have you dragged me before you again?" asked the defiant Dwarf. "Is the hundred years already up?"

"At first I suspected you having a more prosaic motive, attempted burglary or something of that ilk. However, I now imagine that a more noble quest could be at hand." Said the Elvenking circling Thorin while the Dwarf stood once again before the throne. "A quest to reclaim a homeland, and slay a Dragon." Thorin did his best to keep his expression guarded, but the Elf saw through this. "You have found a way in." said Thranduil, taking a step back in astonishment upon finding his fantastic suspicion to be true. "You seek that which would restore your right to rule—the king's Jewel—the Arkenstone." The Elvenking smiled sensing that a great opportunity had presented itself. "It is precious to you beyond measure. I understand that. There are gems in the Mountain that I, too, desire. White gems of pure starlight." The gems he had once entrusted to Thráin's finest craftsmen. "I offer you my help."

"I am listening." Said Thorin with a dry chuckle. So this was the reason he had been brought out from his cell. Thranduil thought that he could use him.

"I will let you go," said the Elvenking in all seriousness; "if you but return what is mine."

"A favor for a favor?"

"You have my word, one king to another."

Thorin's expression hardened.

"I would not trust Thranduil—the great king—to honor his word should the end of all days be upon us! _You_, who lack all honor!" shouted the Dwarf scornfully. "I have seen how you treat your friends. We came to you once, starving, homeless, seeking your help. But you turned your back! You turned away from the suffering of _my_ people, and the inferno that destroyed us." He was gratified to see that the Elf was visibly shocked by his words, but his anger could not be so easily soothed. "May you die in dragon-fire!" he cursed the Elf in his own language.

"Do not talk to me of dragon-fire! I know its wrath and ruin." said Thranduil angrily, closing in on the Dwarf swiftly. For a moment the Elvenking dropped the illusion he usually wore to hide how hideously disfigured and severely scared that at least half of his face truly was. "I have faced the great serpents of the North!" And then the horrifying visage was gone; the illusion of physical perfection slid firmly back into place as the Elvenking drew back and returned to his throne. "I warned your grandfather of what his greed would summon. But he would not listen. You are just like him." With a wave of his hand, Thorin was once again seized by his guards to be taken back to his cell. "Stay here if you will, and rot. A hundred years is a mere blink in the life of an Elf. I am patient. I can wait."

Unbeknownst to the two kings there had been an unexpected witness to this event. Bilbo had seen everything. He had been wandering about trying to discover the whereabouts of Hannah and the other Dwarves, when he spotted Thorin being dragged towards the throne-room. I'm sure you can imagine his surprise and relief to see that Thorin was alive and no worse for wear since the last they had seen of him, so Bilbo could not resist following in search of an opportunity when he might be able to speak with the Dwarf and let him know of what had happened since they were separated. The hobbit was just about to follow Thorin back to his prison when the Elven king spoke.

"I know you're there. Why do you linger in the shadows?"

"I was coming to report to you." Said the elf-prince, stepping forward into the light. Bilbo, who had frozen with fright thinking he had been discovered exhaled a silent sigh of relief upon realizing his luck had not yet deserted him. "We have finished destroying what was left of that nest."

"It should have been taken care of two moons past." Said the Elvenking.

"We cleared the forest as ordered, but more spiders keep coming up from the South. I believe they are spawning in Dol Guldur." Said the prince. "If we could kill them at their source—"

"That fortress lies beyond our borders. Keep our lands free of those foul creatures, that is your task." Said the Elvenking sternly. He had let his son join the guard because he had been growing increasingly restless as of late, but rumors about the Necromancer has reached Thranduil's ears, and he would not allow the elfling to venture into such treacherous territory.

"And when we drive them off, what then? Will they not spread to other lands?" the prince persisted.

"Other lands are not our concern."

While father and son were still engrossed in their little debate, Bilbo decided it was time to sneak away. Hopefully he would still be able to catch up with Thorin before they finished whisking him off to heaven-knows-where.

"The fortunes of the world will rise and fall," the Elvenking continued to lecture his son, "but here in this kingdom, we will endure…" Thranduil paused for a moment when he thought he saw a flicker of shadow out the corner of his eye, but when he looked there was nothing.

"What about the girl?" asked the prince suddenly.

"What about her?"

"What do you intend to do with her?"

"For now I intend to leave her as she is. After all, she is only a child and seems harmless enough. But keep a watch on her. She might be foolish enough to try to free her companions."

Poor Mr. Baggins—it was a weary long time that he lived in that place all alone, and always in hiding, hardly daring to sleep, even tucked away in the darkest and remotest corners he could find. For something to do he took to wandering about the Elvenking's palace. Magic shut the gates, but he could sometimes get out, if he was quick. Companies of the Wood-elves, often with the prince in the lead and sometimes with the king at their head, would from time to time ride out to hunt, or to other business in the woods and in the lands to the East. Then if Bilbo was very nimble, he could slip out just behind them; though it was a dangerous thing to do. More than once he was nearly caught in the doors, as they clashed together when the last Elf passed; yet he did not dare to march among them because of his shadow (altogether thin and wobbly as it was in torch-light), or for fear of being bumped into and discovered. And when he did go out, which was not very often, he did no good. He did not wish to desert the Dwarves and Hannah, and indeed he did not know where in the world to go without them. He could not keep up with the hunting Elves all the time they were out, so he never discovered the ways out of the wood, and was left to wander miserably in the forest, terrified of losing himself, until a chance came if returning. He was hungry too outside, for he was no hunter; but inside the caves he could pick up a living of some sort by stealing food from store or table when no one was at hand.

'I am like a burglar that can't get away, but must go on miserably burgling the same house day after day,' he thought. 'This is the dreariest and dullest part of all this wretched, tiresome, uncomfortable adventure! I wish I was back in my hobbit-hole by my own warm fireside with the lamp shining!' He often wished, too, that he could get a message for help sent to the wizard, but that of course was quite impossible; and he soon realized that if anything was to be done, it would have to be done by Mr. Baggins, alone and unaided.  
Eventually, after a week or two of this sneaking sort of life, by watching and following the guards and taking what chances he could, he managed to find out where each Dwarf was kept. He found all their twelve cells in different parts of the palace, and after a time he got to know his way about very well. He was a bit surprised, but much relieved to discover that Hannah was being kept in a room with a proper bed so that she could heal and rest easy. Though they would not let her see the others and gave her no news of them no matter how much she asked, the Elves appeared to be taking very good care of her. The food they brought her was of a better quality than what was being given to the Dwarves, and a healer came to check on her at least once a day. She even received visits from the prince, who enjoyed hearing tales from her about the world outside the forest. Unfortunately her novelty amongst the Elves made it rather difficult for the hobbit to make contact her, until he was finally able to make her aware of his presence by tracing his name into the palm of her hand. Hannah was surprised but glad to know that he was close at hand and had managed to avoid capture. From then on Bilbo was able to regain a certain level of comfort, for Hannah made sure to leave the door open as much as possible so he could slip in and out as needed, and would leave a share of her food on a napkin for him under the bed, which also made a decent spot to sleep without having to worry about being stepped on or tripped over. But the real triumph came one day when he happened to overhear some of the guards talking about how there was yet another Dwarf being kept prisoner, in a specially deep dark place. He guessed at once, of course, that that was Thorin (whose whereabouts he had lost track of until just then); and after a while he found that his guess was right. At last after many difficulties he managed to find the place when no one was about, and to have a word with the chief of the Dwarves.  
Thorin was too wretched to be angry any longer at his misfortunes, and was even beginning to think of reopening negotiations with Thranduil (which shows how low-spirited he had become), when he heard Bilbo's little voice at his keyhole. He could hardly believe his ears. Soon however he made up his mind that he could not be mistaken, and he came to the door and had a long whispered talk with the invisible hobbit on the other side.  
So it was that Bilbo was able to take secretly Thorin's message to each of the other imprisoned Dwarves and Hannah, telling them that Thorin their chief was also in prison close at hand, and that no one was to give any further information about their errand to the Elvenking, not yet, not before Thorin gave the word. For Thorin had taken heart again hearing how the hobbit had rescued their companions from the spiders, and was once more determined not to ransom himself with promises to Thranduil of a share in the treasure, until all hope of escaping in other way had disappeared; until in fact the remarkable Mr. Invisible Baggins (of whom he began to have a very high opinion indeed) had altogether failed to think of something clever.  
The other Dwarves quite agreed when they got the message. They all thought their own shares in the treasure (which they quite regarded as theirs, in spite of their plight and the still unconquered dragon) would suffer seriously if the Wood-elves claimed part of it, and they all trusted Bilbo. Just as what Gandalf had said would happen, you see.  
When Bilbo whispered this news in Hannah's ear, she agreed to continue her attempts to avoid giving away too much information about their quest, even though the Elvenking had already guessed their purpose; and Bilbo in turn learned a bit of unexpected information that she had picked up during her convalescence. Apparently King Thranduil's disdain for Dwarves was influenced in large part by two events. The first (which she had gleaned from a book borrowed from the library) occurred when Thingol, High-king of Doriath and ruler of the Sindar, whom a very young Thranduil and his father would have served under before his untimely death, became obsessed with a very special gem called a 'Silmaril' and hired some Dwarves to place it in the Nauglamír, the Necklace of the Dwarves. The Dwarven crafstmen, of whom I should mention had no relation whatsoever to Thorin's family, also became obsessed with the jewel and slew Thingol for possession of it, setting off a chain of events that led to the destruction of Doriath and the scattering of its people—which subsequently led to Thranduil's father, Oropher, founding a new kingdom among the Wood-elves. Anyway, despite this nasty incident, Thranduil had once been willing enough to give Dwarves as a whole another chance, for he had tried forming an alliance with the Dwarves of Erebor. But this unfortunately led to the second event, which (according to Legolas) led to a very sharp and sudden decrease in the regard and good will the Elvenking had for Thorin's family when they refused to return the gems and silver that he had entrusted them with to create a necklace in memory of his late wife. Thranduil had been willing to pay the price officially agreed upon by both parties, but at the last minute the Dwarves had raised the price by such a ridiculous amount that it was insulting, and the Elvenking refused to pay; and the Dwarves refused to return the gems.  
Bilbo was not unsympathetic, and agreed that the Elves had been wronged (at least the way they told it), but it seemed a bit much to break an alliance over a necklace.

"I suppose that goes to show how much he loved his wife." Said Hannah, understanding all too well what it was like to feel the need to have a memento, to want something to be able to remember a lost loved one by so they wouldn't feel so far away.  
"Who are you talking to?" asked the king suddenly from the doorway, startling them so badly that the girl and the hobbit (though no one could see him) both flinched in surprise when they realized belatedly that they were no longer alone. Bilbo quickly ducked under the bed before his shadow could be spotted while she fumbled for an appropriate answer. For some reason Hannah couldn't help but feel a bit nervous around the Elvenking. She was certain her face would soon be as red as a ripe tomato because she could already feel her cheeks heating up.

"Oh! Just, uh, my invisible friend—His name is Bilbo." She stammered in reply.

Poor Bilbo nearly banged his head on the bottom of the bed-frame in shock.

"Aren't you a little old for imaginary friends?" asked the king. In a couple more years the girl would be old enough (by the race of Man's standards) to be considered an adult.

"Perhaps." Hannah agreed, not bothering to correct his misconception since it worked in their favor. She had been hoping he might take it that way. "Can I help you with something, your majesty?"

"My son had grown very fond of you." The king said pointedly. It was somewhat alarming how attached to this child Legolas had become in such a short amount of time.

"I think it's my stories that he is fond of."

"Perhaps, but now I'm not so sure."

"I don't understand." Said Hannah with a small crease in her brow, not liking his tone or the look he was giving her. "Would it be a problem for us to become friends?"

"Friends, no. That I do not mind, so long as that is all you remain."


	15. Chapter 15

**Previously:**

_"Aren't you a little old for imaginary friends?" asked the king. In a couple more years the girl would be old enough (by the race of Man's standards) to be considered an adult._

_"Perhaps." Hannah agreed, not bothering to correct his misconception since it worked in their favor. She had been hoping he might take it that way. "Can I help you with something, your majesty?"_

_"My son had grown very fond of you." The king said pointedly. It was somewhat alarming how attached to this child Legolas had become in such a short amount of time._

_"I think it's my stories that he is fond of."_

_"Perhaps, but now I'm not so sure."_

_"I don't understand." Said Hannah with a small crease in her brow, not liking his tone or the look he was giving her. "Would it be a problem for us to become friends?"_

_"Friends, no. That I do not mind, so long as that is all you remain."_

* * *

**Chapter 15: Barrels out of Bond**

* * *

Sitting a dark and quiet corner Bilbo let out a heavy sigh while trying to think of a way to get everyone out. He did not like being depended on by everyone, and he wished he had the wizard at hand. But that was no use: probably all the dark distance of Mirkwood lay between them. He could not ask Hannah for advice since, after the rather surprising conversation she had shared with the Elvenking the previous evening, she was being watched more closely than ever. So there Bilbo sat and thought and thought, until his head nearly burst, but no bright idea would come. One invisible ring was a very fine thing, but it was not much good among fourteen. But of course, as you have guessed, he did rescue his friends in the end, and this is how it happened.  
One day, nosing and wandering about, Bilbo discovered a very interesting thing: the great gates were _not_ the only entrance to the caves. A stream flowed under part of the lowest regions of the palace, and joined the Forest River some way further to the east, beyond the steep slope out of which the main mouth opened. Where this underground watercourse came forth from the hill-side there was a water-gate. There the rocky roof came down close to the surface of the stream, and from it a portcullis could be dropped right to the bed of the river to prevent anyone coming in or out that way. But the portcullis was often open, for a good deal of traffic went out and in by the water-gate. If anyone had come in that way, he would have found himself in a dark rough tunnel leading deep into the heart of the hill; but at one point where it passed under the caves the roof had been cut away and covered with great oaken trapdoors. These opened upwards into the king's cellars. There stood barrels, and barrels, and barrels; for the Wood-elves, and especially their king, were very fond of wine, though no vines grew in those parts. The wine, and other goods, were brought from far away, from their kinsfolk in the South, or from the vineyards of Men in distant lands.  
Hiding behind one of the largest barrels Bilbo discovered the trapdoors and their use, and lurking there, listening to the talk of the king's servant, he learned how the wine and other goods came up the rivers, or over land, to the Long Lake. It seemed a town of Men still throve there, built out on bridges far into the water as a protection against enemies of all sorts, and especially against the dragon of the Mountain. From Lake-town the barrels were brought up the Forest River. Often they were just tied together like big rafts and poled or rowed up the stream; sometimes they were loaded on flat boats.  
When the barrels were empty the Elves cast them through the trapdoors, opened the water-gate, and out the barrels floated on the stream, bobbing along, until they were carried by the current to a place far down the river where the bank jutted out, near to the very eastern edge of Mirkwood. There they were collected and tied together and floated back to Lake-town, which stood close to the point where the Forest River flowed into the Long Lake.

For sometime Bilbo sat and thought about this water-gate, and wondered if it could be used for the escape of his friends, and at last he had the desperate beginnings of a plan.  
Up he crept to Hannah's room, where he waited for a chance to speak with her on the matter and see if she could offer anything to add to his plan. Bilbo touched the girl's arm to make her aware of his presence, and she promptly made up some excuse to send the Elf-maid siting with her away on a small errand to give them some time alone in the room, though they still had to be careful of the sharp-eared guards that were standing just outside the room. Bilbo quickly and quietly summed up his discovery for her and asked what she thought of it as an escape route. Hannah thought it was brilliant. It would be a rough ride in those barrels, but she saw it as their best chance of getting out without drawing too much attention to themselves. She also informed him that she had heard from the Elves around her that there was to be a feast that evening, and the event might prove a good distraction.

"You can leave tonight if you are lucky enough," said Hannah; "but I'm afraid you will have to do so without me."

Bilbo was shocked to hear her say such a thing. The thought that they might have to leave her behind had never even occurred to him; but Hannah reminded him that her leg had yet to fully heal, and it would be at least two more weeks before she could removed the bindings. It would be a very awkward thing for her to attempt to run off to the lower-levels in her current state, and she thought any attempt to do so would likely result in her either being caught before she could even get started, or worse, she could end up leading her pursuers right to the others. And that would ruin everyone's chance of escape. Still Bilbo insisted that they could not leave her, but Hannah remained firm in position and reassured him that she did not think the Elves would harm her (though they were sure to be very cross). Indeed Hannah argued that even if they could all escape together, in her current condition she would undoubtedly be more of a burden than an asset to her friends, and she had been quite prepared to be left behind the moment she realized this. All she asked of Bilbo was that, as soon as he was able, he made it his business to make sure that Gandalf knew where she was and that she might need rescuing. Bilbo was still hesitant to leave her behind when the elf-maid returned, but though his heart fell at the thought, he saw the sense in what Hannah was saying, and silently promised to relay her message to the wizard as he crept back out the room, determined to come back for her himself if need be.

The evening meal had been taken to the prisoners. The guards were tramping away down the passages taking the torchlight with them and leaving everything in darkness. Then Bilbo heard the king's butler bidding the chief of the guards good-night.

"Now come with me," he said, "and taste the new wine that has just come in. I shall be hard at work tonight clearing the cellars of the empty wood, so let us have a drink first to help the labor."

"Very good," laughed the chief of the guards. "I'll taste it with you, and see if it is fit for the king's table. There is a feast tonight and it would not do to send up the poor stuff!"

When he heard this Bilbo was all a flutter, for he saw that luck was indeed with him and he had a chance at once to try his desperate plan. He followed the two Elves, until they entered a small cellar and sat down at a table on which two large flagons were set. Soon they began to drink and laugh merrily. Luck of an unusual kind was with Bilbo then. It must be potent wine to make a wood-elf drowsy; but this wine, it would seem, was the heady vintage of the great gardens of Dorwinion, not meant for his soldiers or his servants, but for the king's feast only, and for smaller bowls, not for the butler's great flagons.  
Very soon the chief guard nodded his head, then he laid it on the table and fell fast asleep. The butler went on talking and laughing to himself for a while without seeming to notice, but soon his head too nodded to the table, and he fell fast asleep and snored beside his friend. Then in crept the hobbit. Very soon the chief guard had no keys, but Bilbo was trotting as fast as he could along the passage towards the cells. The bunch seemed very heavy to his arms, and his heart was often in his mouth, in spite of his ring, for he could not prevent the keys from making every now and then a loud clink and clank, which put him all in a tremble.  
First he unlocked Balin's door, and locked it again carefully as soon as the Dwarf was outside. Balin was most surprised, as you can imagine; but glad as he was to get out of his wearisome little stone room, he wanted to stop and ask questions, and know what Bilbo was going to do, and all about it.

"No time now!" said the hobbit. "You must follow me! We must all keep together and not risk getting separated. All of is must escape or none," he swallowed the lump that formed in his throat upon remembering that this would not include Hannah, "and this is our last chance. If this is found out, goodness knows where the king will put you next, with chains on your hands and feet too, I expect. Don't argue, there's a good fellow!"

Then off he went from door to door, until his following had grown to twelve—none of them any too nimble, what with the dark, and their long imprisonment. Bilbo's heart thumped every time one of them bumped into another, or grunted or whispered in the dark. "Drat this Dwarvish racket!" he said to himself. But all went well, and they met no guards. This was all thanks to the fact that there was a great autumn feast in the woods that night, and in the halls above. Nearly all the king's folks were merrymaking.  
At last after much blundering they came to Thorin's dungeon, far down in a deep place and fortunately not far from the cellars.

"Upon my word!" said Thorin, when Bilbo whispered to him to come out and join his friends, "Gandalf spoke true, as usual. A pretty fine burglar you make, it seems, when the time comes. I am sure we are all ever at your service, whatever happens after this. But what comes next?"

"And where is Hannah?" asked Kili suddenly.

Bilbo saw that the time had now come to explain Hannah's decision to stay behind. The Dwarves were understandably disappointed and concerned for her continued safety, but they all agreed that it was necessary. "Her sacrifice shall not be forgotten." said Thorin. And with that settled the hobbit began to explain his idea for their escape, as far as he would; but he did not feel at all sure how the Dwarves would take it. His fears were quite justified, for they did not like it a bit, and started grumbling loudly in spite of their danger.

"We shall be bruised and battered to pieces, and drowned too, for certain!" they muttered. "We thought you had got some sensible notion, when you managed to get hold of the keys. This is a mad idea! It's no wonder Hannah decided to stay behind."

"Very well!" said Bilbo very downcast, and also rather annoyed. "Come along back to your nice cells, and I will lock you up again, and you can sit there comfortably and think of a better plan—but I don't suppose I shall ever get hold of the keys again, even if I feel inclined to try."

That was too much for them, and they calmed down. In the end, of course, they had to do just what Bilbo suggested, because it was obviously impossible for them to try and find their way into the upper halls, or to fight their way out of gates that closed by magic; and it was no good grumbling in the passages until they were caught again. So following the hobbit, down into the lowest cellars the crept. They passed a door through which the chief guard and the butler could be seen still happily snoring with smiles upon their faces. The wine of Dorwinion brings deep and pleasant dreams. There would be a different expression on the face of the chief guard next day, even though Bilbo, before they went on, stole in and kindheartedly put the keys back on his belt.

"That will save him some of the trouble he is in for," said Mr. Baggins to himself. "He wasn't a bad fellow, and quite decent to the prisoners. It will puzzle them all too. They will think we had a very strong magic to pass through all those locked doors and disappear. Disappear! We have got to get busy very quick, if that is too happen!"

Balin was told off to watch the guard and the butler and give a warning if they stirred. The rest went into the adjoining cellar with the trapdoors. There was little time to lose. Before long, as Bilbo knew, some elves were under orders to come down and help the butler get the empty barrels through the doors into the stream. These were in fact already standing in rows in the middle of the floor waiting to be pushed off. Some of them were wine-barrels, and these were not much use, as they could not be easily opened at the end without a great deal of noise, nor could they easily be secured again. But among them were several others which had been used for bringing other stuffs, butter, apples, and all sorts of things, to the king's palace. They soon found thirteen with room enough for a Dwarf in each. In fact some were too roomy, and as they climbed in the Dwarves thought anxiously of all the shaking and bumping they would get inside, though Bilbo did his best to find straw and other stuff to pack them in as cozily as could be managed in a short time. At last the twelve Dwarves were stowed. Thorin had given a lot of trouble, and turned and twisted in his tub and grumbled like a large dog in a small kennel; while Balin, who came last, made a great fuss about his air-holes and said he was stifling, even before his lid was on. Bilbo had done what he could to close holes in the sides of the barrels, and to fix on all the lids as safely as could be managed, and now he was left alone again, running round putting the finishing touches to the packing, and hoping against hope that his plan would come off.  
It had not been a bit too soon. Only a minute or two after Balin's lid had been fitted on there came the sound of voices and the flicker of lights. A number of Elves came laughing and talking into the cellars and singing snatches of son. They had left a merry feast in one of the halls and were bent on returning as soon as they could.

"Where's old Galion, the butler?" said one. "I haven't seen him at the tables tonight. He ought to be here now to show us what is to be done."

"I shall be angry if the old slowcoach is late," said another. "I have no wish to waste time down here while the song is up!"

"Ha, ha!" came a cry. "Here's the old villain with his head on a jug! He's been having a little feast all to himself and his friend the captain."

"Shake him! Wake him!" shouted the others impatiently.

Galion was not at all pleased at being shaken or wakened, and still less at being laughed at. "You're all late." He grumbled. "Here I am waiting and waiting down here, while you fellows drink and make merry and forget your tasks. Small wonder if I fall asleep from weariness!"

"Small wonder," said they, "when the explanation stands close at hand in a jug! Come give us a taste of your sleeping-draught before we fall to! No need to make the turnkey wonder. He has had his share by the looks of it."

Then they drank once round and became mighty merry all of a sudden. But they did not quite lose their wits. "Save us, Galion!" cried some, "you began your feasting early and muddled your wits! You have stacked some full casks here instead of the empty one, if there is anything in weight."

"Get on with the work!" growled the butler. "There is nothing in the feeling of weight in an idle toss-pot's arms. These are the ones to go and no others. Do as I say!"

"Very well, very well," they answered rolling the barrels to the opening. "On your head be it, if the king's full buttertubs and his best wine is pushed into the river for the Lake-men to feast on for nothing!"

_Roll—roll—roll—roll,  
roll-roll-rolling down the hole!  
Heave ho! Splash plump!  
Down they go, down they bump!_

So they sang as first one barrel and then another rumbled to the dark opening and was pushed over into the cold water some feet below. Some were barrels really empty, some were tubs neatly packed with a dwarf each; but down they all went, one after another, with many a clash and a bump, thudding on top of ones below, smacking into the water, jostling against the walls of the tunnel, knocking into one another, and bobbing away down the current.  
It was just at this moment that Bilbo suddenly discovered the weak point in his plan. Most likely you saw it some time ago and have been laughing at him; but I don't suppose you would have done half as well yourselves in his place. Of course he was not in a barrel himself, nor was there anyone to pack him in, even if there had been a chance! It looked as if he would certainly lose his friends this time (nearly all of them had disappeared through the dark trapdoor), and get utterly left behind and have to stay lurking as a permanent burglar in the elf-caves forever. For even if he could have escaped through the upper gates at once, he had precious small chance of ever finding the Dwarves again. He did not know the way by land to the place where the barrels were collected. He wondered what on earth would happen to them without him; for he had not had time to tell the Dwarves all that he and Hannah had learned, or what he had meant to do, once they were out of the wood.  
While all these thoughts were passing through his mind, the Elves being very merry began to sing a song round the river door. Some had already gone to haul on the ropes which pulled up the portcullis at the water-gate so as to let out the barrels as soon as they were all afloat below.

_Down the swift dark stream you go  
Back to lands you once did know!  
Leave the halls and caverns deep,  
Leave the northern mountains steep,  
Where the forest wide and dim  
Stoops in shadow grey and grim!  
Float beyond the world of trees  
Out into the whispering breeze,  
Past the rushes, past the reeds,  
Past the marsh's waving weeds,  
Through the mist that riseth white  
Up from mere and pool at night!  
Follow, follow stars that leap  
Up the heavens cold and steep;  
Turn when dawn comes over land  
Over rapid, Over sand,  
South away! And South away!  
Seek the sunlight and the day,  
Back to pasture, back to mead,  
Where the kine and oxen feed!  
Back to gardens on the hills  
Where the berry swells and fills  
Under sunlight, under day!  
South away! and South away!  
Down the swift dark stream you go  
Back to lands you once did know! _

Now the very last barrel was being rolled to the doors! In despair and not knowing what else to do, poor little Bilbo caught hold of it and was pushed over the edge with it. Down into the water he fell, splash! into the cold dark water with the barrel on top of him. He came up again spluttering and clinging to the wood like a rat, but for all his efforts he could not scramble on top. Every time he tried, the barrel rolled round and ducked him under again. It was really empty, and floated light as a cork. Though his ears were full of water, he could hear the Elves still singing in the cellar above. Then suddenly the trapdoors fell to with a boom and their voices faded away. He was in the dark tunnel, floating in icy water, all alone—for you cannot count friends that are all packed up in barrels.  
Very soon a grey patch came up in the darkness ahead. He heard the creak of the water-gate being hauled up, and he found that he was in the midst of a bobbing and bumping mass of casks and tubs all pressing together to pass under the arch and get out into the open stream. He had as much as he could do to prevent himself from being hustled and battered to bits; but at last the jostling crowd began to break up and swing off, one by one, under the stone arch and away. Then he saw that it would have been no good even if he had managed to get astride his barrel, for there was no room to spare, not even for a hobbit, between its top and the suddenly stooping roof where the gate was.

Out they went under the overhanging branches of the trees on either bank. Bilbo wondered what the Dwarves were feeling and whether a lot of water was getting into their tubs. Some of those that bobbed along by him in the gloom seemed pretty low in the water, and he guessed that these had Dwarves inside.

'I do hope I put the lids on tight enough!' he thought, but before long he was worrying too much about himself to remember the Dwarves. He managed to keep his head above the water, but he was shivering with the cold, and he wondered if he would die of it before the luck turned, and how much longer he would be able to hang on, and whether he should risk the chance of letting go and trying to swim to the bank.  
The luck turned all right before long; the eddying current carried several barrels close ashore at one point and there for a while they stuck against some hidden root. Then Bilbo took the opportunity of scrambling up the side against his barrel while it was held steady against another. Up he crawled like a drowned rat, and lay on the top spread out to keep the balance as best he could. The breeze was cold but better than the water, and he hoped he would not suddenly roll off again when they started off once more.  
Before long the barrels broke free again and turned and twisted off down the stream, and out into the main current. Then he found it quite as difficult to stick on as he had feared; but he managed it somehow, though it was miserably uncomfortable. Luckily he was very light, and the barrel was a good big one being rather leaky had now shipped a small amount of water. All the same it was like trying to ride, without bridle or stirrups, a round-bellied pony that was always thinking of rolling on the grass.  
In this way at last Mr. Baggins came to a place where the trees on either hand grew thinner. He could see the paler sky between them. The dark river opened suddenly wide, and there it was joined to the main water of the Forest River flowing down in haste from the king's great doors. There was a dim sheet of water no longer overshadowed, and on its sliding surface there were dancing and broken reflections of clouds and of stars. Then the hurrying water of the Forest River swept all the company of casks and tubs away to the north bank, in which it had had eaten out a wide bay. This had a shingly shore under hanging banks and was walled at the eastern end by a little jutting cape of hard rock. On the shallow shore most of the barrels ran aground, though a few went on to bump against the stony pier.  
There were people on the look-out on the banks. They quickly poled and pushed all the barrels together into the shadows, and when they had counted them they roped them together and left them till the morning. Poor Dwarves! Bilbo was not so badly off now. He slipped from his barrel and waded ashore, and then sneaked along to some huts that he could see near the water's edge. He no longer thought twice about picking up a supper uninvited if he got the chance, he had been obliged to do it for so long, and he knew only too well what it was to be really hungry, not merely politely interested in the dainties of a well-filled larder. Also he had caught a glimpse of a fire through the trees, and that appealed to him with his dripping and ragged clothes clinging to him cold and clammy.

There is no need to tell you much of his adventures that night, for now we are drawing near the end of the eastward journey and coming to the last and greatest adventure of this quest, so we must hurry on. Of course helped by his magic ring he got on very well at first, but he was given away in the end by his wet footsteps and the trail of drippings that he left wherever he went or sat; and also he began to snivel, and wherever he tried to hide he was found out by the terrific explosions of his suppressed sneezes. Very soon there was a fine commotion in the village by the riverside; but Bilbo escaped into the woods carrying a loaf and a leather bottle of wine and a pie that did not belong to him. The rest of the night he had to pass wet as he was and far from a fire, but the bottle helped him to do that, and he actually dozed a little on some dry leaves, even though the year was getting late and the aor was chilly.  
He woke again with a specially loud sneeze. Bilbo wiped his nose with the embroidered handkerchief that he had borrowed from Hannah and sat there looking at it for a moment while wondering what would become of her once the Elves back in the king's cave-palace discovered the absence of the Dwarves. He really hoped they wouldn't do anything nasty to her. The hobbit quickly folded up the little cloth and tucked it back into his pocket. It was already grey morning, and there was a merry racket down by the river. They were making up a raft of barrels, and the raft-elves would soon be steering it off down the stream to Lake-town. Bilbo sneezed again. He was no longer dripping but he felt cold all over. He scrambled down as fast as his stiff legs would take him and managed just in time to get on to the mass of casks without being noticed in the general bustle. Luckily there was no sun at the time to cast an awkward shadow, and for a mercy he did not sneeze again for a good while.  
There was a mighty pushing of poles. The Elves that were standing in the shallow water heaved and shoved. The barrels now all lashed together creaked and fretted.

"This is a heavy load!" some grumbled. "They float too deep—some of these are never empty. If they had come ashore in the daylight, we might have had a look inside." They said.

"No time now!" cried the raftman. "Shove off!"

And off they went at last, slowly a first, until they had passed the point of rock where other elves stood to fend them off with poles, and then quicker and quicker as they caught the main stream and went sailing away down, down towards the Lake.  
They had escaped the dungeons of the king and were through the wood, but whether alive or dead still remains to be seen.


	16. Chapter 16

**Previously:**

_"This is a heavy load!" some grumbled. "They float too deep—some of these are never empty. If they had come ashore in the daylight, we might have had a look inside." They said._

_"No time now!" cried the raftman. "Shove off!"_

_And off they went at last, slowly a first, until they had passed the point of rock where other elves stood to fend them off with poles, and then quicker and quicker as they caught the main stream and went sailing away down, down towards the Lake._  
_They had escaped the dungeons of the king and were through the wood, but whether alive or dead still remains to be seen._

* * *

**Chapter 16: A Warm Welcome**

* * *

Since I'm sure that you, like the hobbit, wish to know about what was happening on Hannah's end, we must for a moment return to the halls of the Elvenking. The night was just giving way to dawn when Hannah (still in a state of twilight consciousness where she was more asleep than awake) became vaguely aware that there were the sounds of a commotion outside her room. The Elves, many of who had yet to fully recover from the excessive indulgence of the previous evening, had sobered up very quickly and begun to hurry about in a panic upon discovering that their prisoners had somehow managed to vanish from their locked cells. The instant this dreadful news was brought to the attention of the king, he issued orders to scour every inch of the caves and the forest in search of the Dwarves, and quickly made his way to confront the only remaining member of their party.

"Get up!" Thranduil commanded sternly as he swept into the room in which Hannah was being kept. But to his irritation the girl simply rolled over and gave a mumbled plea for five more minutes of rest. The king ripped away her blankets. Hannah shivered and instinctively curled up against the cold as much as she could before finally cracking open an eye to see a very livid Elvenking looming over her bed in a rather ominous manner. "Where are they?" he demanded shortly.

"Who?" asked Hannah, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. Her brain hadn't quite caught up with her mouth yet.

"The Dwarves! They are gone, all of them."

"And you think I had something to do with it?" she asked. "I think you're giving me too much credit, your highness. I've been here the whole time, just ask my guards and caretakers." Seeing as she had no idea how long the others had been on the run, Hannah thought she should at least try to do them the favor of stalling their pursuit as best she could.

"Do not lie to me. You know something, I can tell." Said the king watching her closely. "How did they get out?" he pressed.

"I have never lied to you." said Hannah in all seriousness. She may have stretched the truth a bit at times, but she had stuck to it (without giving away anything too damaging about herself or the Dwarves) as much as possible during her stay in the Elvenking's halls. "But to answer your question, I honestly couldn't say for certain. If they've escaped then they would have had to do so without any help from me. I'm all but useless with my leg like this." Said Hannah calmly, giving her bound and braced leg a tap for emphasis. After all, when Bilbo had come to her with his rough idea to hide the Dwarves in the barrels, it had been little more than that, and full of uncertainty. The full details of how he had managed to pull off such a feat as rescuing all thirteen Dwarves out from under the Elves' noses were known only to the hobbit.

"The Dwarves have left you behind." Thranduil reminded her sternly. "They have abandoned you. There is no need for you to continue to protect them."

"If they left me behind it was because they had no other choice." She stated calmly. "As I've just said, I'll be useless until this splint can be removed, which would make for a rather awkward escape, don't you think, your majesty? I'm quite glad they didn't let whatever affection they might have for me stop them. You see, it's terribly important that they continue their quest, so much so that I think the issue of my personal safety pales in comparison. And I do not think a great Elvenking such as yourself would be so cruel as to harm a defenseless child."

"Hmph! The only thing child-like about you is your appearance—flattery will get you nowhere. Your loyalty is admirable, but if you continue to resist answering my questions, then I shall have you moved to one of the recently vacated cells." Thranduil retorted coolly. Beneath her youthful innocence lay an almost startling practicality and guile that was rarely seen in one so young. But there was also a gentle sort of strength and a deep selflessness about her. Even under the threat of harsher imprisonment, the girl would say nothing to betray her companions. "Why are you so intent upon covering for them? I know the Dwarves seek to reclaim Erebor. Did they promise you a share of the treasure? What makes you so certain that they will keep their end of the bargain?"

"Nothing." Answered Hannah. "Because I made no such bargain. This isn't about treasure or anything like that. And while I would like to see my new friends all safely settled in their lost home again, that isn't my only reason for helping them. Please don't take this the wrong way, your majesty, but I've been told by my mentor, the one who started all of this, to keep the full details of the errand as secret as possible. And I'm not at all sure how much I should tell you, though I would like to give you the answers you seek after the kindness you and your son have shown me. However I can say this: much depends upon the Dwarves succeeding in their quest. Please let them. That Dragon cannot be left alone. This quest and its repercussions are related to far more heavy and important matters than I think you realize, including the safety of your realm. The Necromancer is not what he seems." She finished gravely. Hannah felt she should at least share that piece of information with him, however vague, given how the Necromancer's territory was not too far from his own.

"Is that all you have to say?" the king asked after pausing for a moment to consider several possible meanings behind her ambiguous warning. The underlying meaning of her words implied much without giving any concrete evidence to support her claims. And she had given to him none of the answers which he sought most.

"I feel that is all I can say." Answered Hannah. She might be able to tell him more once the Dwarves had completed their quest, or the Council finished whatever attack Gandalf might be leading on Dol Guldur, but for now there was still too great a need for secrecy so as not to alert the Enemy for her to be careless with her words.

"I see." Thranduil said grimly as he regarded the young girl before him with a jaded expression upon his fair face. "Take her away." He ordered the guards in Elvish. Hannah offered no resistance as she was carefully led away to her new prison.

Now let us return to Bilbo and the Dwarves. The day grew lighter and warmer as they floated along. After a while the river rounded a steep shoulder of land that came upon their left. Under its rocky feet like an inland cliff the deepest stream had flowed lapping and bubbling. Suddenly the cliff fell away. The shores sank. The trees ended. Then Bilbo saw a sight:  
The lands opened wide about him, filled with the waters of the river which broke up and wandered in a hundred winding courses, or halted in marshes and pools dotted with isles on every side; but still a strong water flowed on steadily through the midst. And far away, its dark head in a torn cloud, there loomed the Mountain! Its nearest neighbors to the North-East and the tumbled land that joined to it could not be seen. All alone it rose and looked across the marshes to the forest. The Lonely Mountain! Bilbo had come far and through many adventures to see it, and now he did not like the look of it in the least.  
As he listened to the talk of the raftmen and pieced together the scraps of information they let fall, he soon realized that he was very fortunate to have ever seen it at all, even from a distance. Dreary as had been his imprisonment and unpleasant as was his position (to say nothing of the poor Dwarves who were underneath him) still, he had been more lucky than he had guessed. The talk was all of the trade that came and went along the waterways and the growth of the traffic on the river, as the roads out of the East towards Mirkwood vanished or fell into disuse; and of the bickerings of the Lake-men and the Wood-elves about the upkeep of the Forest River and care of the banks. Those lands had changed much since the days when Dwarves dwelt in the Mountain, days which most people now remembered only as a very shadowy tradition. They had changed even in the recent years, and since the last time that Gandalf had been through them. Great floods and rains had swollen the waters that flowed east; and there had been an earthquake or two (which some were inclined to attribute to the Dragon—alluding to him chiefly with a curse and an ominous nod in the direction of the Mountain). The marshes and bogs had spread wider and wider on either side. Paths had vanished, and many a rider and wanderer too, if they had tried to find the lost ways across. The elf-road through the woods which the Dwarves had followed on the advice of Beorn now came to a doubtful and little used end at the eastern edge of the forest; only the river offered any longer a safe way from the skirts of Mirkwood in the North to the mountain-shadowed plains beyond, and the river was guarded by the Wood-elves' king.  
So you see Bilbo had come in the end by the only road that was any good. It might have been of some comfort to Mr. Baggins shivering on the barrels, if he had known that news of this had reached Gandalf far away and given him great anxiety, and that he was in fact finishing his other business (which will perhaps be explained at a later on in this tale) and getting ready to come in search of Thorin's company. But Bilbo did not know it.  
All he knew was that the river seemed to go on and on forever, and he was worried about Hannah, he was hungry, and had a nasty cold in the nose, and did not like the way the Mountain seemed to frown at him and threaten him as it drew ever nearer. After a while, however, the river took a more southerly course and the Mountain receded again, and at last, late in the day the shores grew rocky, the river gathered all its wandering waters together into a deep and rapid flood, and they swept along at great speed.  
The sun had set when turning with another sweep towards the East the forest-river rushed into the Long Lake. There it had a wide mouth with stony clifflike gates at either side whose feet were piled with shingles. The Long Lake! Bilbo had never imagined that any water that was not the sea could look so big. It was so wide that the opposite shores looked small and far, but it was so long that its northerly end, which pointed towards the Mountain, could not be seen at all. Only from the map did Bilbo know that away up there, where the stars of the Wain were already twinkling, the Running River came down into the lake from Dale and with the Forest River filled with deep waters what must once have been a great deep rocky valley. At the southern end the doubled waters poured out again over high waterfalls and ran away hurriedly to unknown lands. In the still evening air the noise of the falls could be heard like a distant roar.  
Not far from the mouth of the Forest River was the strange town he heard the Elves speak of in the king's cellars. It was not built on the shore, though there were a few huts and buildings there, but right out on the surface of the lake, protected from the swirl of the entering river by a promontory of rock which formed a calm bay. A great bridge made of wood ran out to where on huge piles made of forest trees was built a busy wooden town, not a town of Elves but of Men, who still dared to dwell here under the shadow of the distant dragon-mountain. They still throve on the trade that came up the great river from the South and was carted past the falls to their town; but in the great days of old, when Dale in the North was rich and prosperous, they had been wealthy and powerful, and there had been fleets of boats on the waters, and some were filled with gold and some with warriors in armor, and there had been wars and deeds which were now only a legend. The rotting piles of a greater town could still be seen along the shores when the waters sank in a drought.  
But men remembered little of all that, though some still sang old songs of the dwarf-kings of the Mountain, Thrór and Thráin and race of Durin, and of the coming of the Dragon, and the fall of the lords of Dale. Some sang too that Thrór and Thráin would come back one day and gold would flow in rivers through the mountain-gates, and all that land would be filled with new song and new laughter. But this pleasant legend did not much affect their daily business

Back in the halls of the Elvenking in her small and dim cell Hannah had begun to sing a few songs of her own, and one of them, a popular song that she used to enjoy listening to Vera Lynn sing over the wireless, went something like this:

_When two lovers meet in Mayfair, so the legends tell  
Songbirds sing. Winter turns to spring  
Every winding street in Mayfair falls beneath the spell  
I know such enchantment can be  
Cause it happened one evening to me.  
That certain night, the night we met  
There was magic abroad in the air.  
There were angels dining at the Ritz  
And a nightingale sang in Berkeley Square  
I may be right I maybe wrong  
But I'm perfectly willing to swear  
That when you turned and smiled at me  
A nightingale sang in Berkeley Square_

_The moon that lingered over London town  
Poor puzzled moon, he wore a frown  
How could he know that we two were so in love  
The whole damned world seemed up-side-down  
The streets of town were paved with stars  
It was such a romantic affair  
And as we kissed and said good-night  
A nightingale sang in Berkley Square_

Hannah whistled out the tune of the jazz solo.

_Our homeward step was just as light as the tap-dancing feet of Astaire  
And like an echo far away  
A nightingale sang in Berkeley Square  
I know cause I was there that night in Berkeley Square._

"It almost sounds as though we have a nightingale singing in here." Commented Legolas, alerting her to his presence. Hannah turned her head to looked up at him. His smile was strained, and she knew that he was none too pleased with her at the moment. Upon his return from searching for the escaped Dwarves (which had proved fruitless due to a complete absence of any semblance of a trail to follow) his father had wasted no time in telling him of the seeming betrayal Hannah had paid them for their trust. "Why do you keep silent on the Dwarves' behalf?" he asked. "If you but answer the king's questions, he will release you from this prison."

"I take no joy in this," said Hannah with a wan smile; "but though I would very much like to remain in your good graces, I cannot betray an old friendship for the sake of a new one. And there is much more at stake than my freedom. I'd hate to think of what tragedy might befall this land should I prove careless with my words."

"If the situation is truly as dire as you claim, then why do you sit here singing instead of trying to find your own means of escape?"

"Who says I'm not?" she teased with a small twinkle in her eyes. "But in all seriousness, we both know I won't get very far with my leg bound like this, and I have no desire to further anger your father. He makes me nervous enough as it is! So for the time being, I think I shall continue to focus on doing what I can from here, which is to rest and finishing healing. And in the meantime I will sing, or I may very well start climbing the walls from boredom."

"Then by all means sing!" said Legolas. He should have been angry with her for whatever part she may have played in the escape of their prisoners, but for some reason he could not bring himself to hold a grudge against the odd but brave little mortal girl; and the prince found that he enjoyed listening to her voice, which rang like a crystal bell throughout the cavern as she began to sing anew.

As soon as the raft of barrels came in sight boats rowed out from the piles of the town, and voices hailed the raftsteerers. Then ropes were cast and oars were pulled, and soon the raft was drawn out of the current of the Forest River and towed away round the high shoulder of the rock into the little bay of Lake-town. There it was moored not far from the shoreward head of the great bridge. Soon men would come up from the South and take some of the casks away, and others they would fill with goods they had brought to be taken back up the stream to the Wood-elves' home. In the meanwhile the barrels were left afloat while the Elves of the raft and the boatmen went to feast in Lake-town.  
They would have been surprised, if they could have seen what happened down by the shore, after they had gone and the shades of night had fallen. First of all a barrel was cut loose by Bilbo and pushed to the shore and opened. Groans came from inside, and out crept a most unhappy Dwarf. Wet straw was in his draggled beard; he was so sore and stiff, so bruised and buffeted he could hardly stand or stumble through the shallow water to lie groaning on the shore. He had a famished and a savage look like a dog that had been chained and forgotten in a kennel for a week. It was Thorin, though you could only have told it by his golden chain and the key hanging from it. It was some time before he would even be polite to the hobbit.

"Well, are you alive or are you dead?" asked Bilbo quite crossly. Perhaps he had forgotten that he had had at least one good meal more than the Dwarves, and also the use of his arms and legs, not to speak of a greater allowance of air. "Are you still in prison, or are you free? If you want food, and if you want to go on with this silly adventure—it's yours after all and not mine—you had better slap your arms and rub your legs and try and help me get the others out while there is a chance!"

Thorin of course saw the sense of this, so after a few more groans he got up and helped the hobbit as well as he could. In the darkness floundering in the cold water they had a difficult and very nasty job finding which were the right barrels. Knocking outside and calling only discovered about six Dwarves that could answer. They were unpacked and helped ashore where they sat or lay muttering and moaning; they were so soaked and bruised and cramped that they could hardly yet realize their release and be thankful for it.  
Dwalin and Balin were two of the most unhappy, and it was no good asking them to help. Bifur and Bofur were less knocked out and drier, but they lay down and would do nothing. Fili and Kili, however, who were young (for Dwarves) and had also been packed more neatly with plenty of straw into smaller casks, came out more or less smiling, with only a bruise or two and a stiffness that soon wore off.

"I hope I never smell the smell of apples again!" said Fili. "My tub was full of it. to smell apples everlastingly when you can scarcely move and are cold and sick with hunger is maddening. I could eat anything in the wide world now, for hours on end—but not an apple!"

With the willing help of Fili and Kili, Thorin and Bilbo at last discovered the remainder of the company and got them out. Poor fat Bombur was asleep or senseless; Dori, Nori, Ori, Oin, and Glóin were waterlogged and seemed only half alive; they all had to be carried one by one and laid helpless on the shore.

"Well! Here we are!" said Thorin. "And I suppose we ought to thank our stars and Mr. Baggins. I am sure he has a right to expect it, though I wish he could have arranged a more comfortable journey. Still—all very much at your service once more, Mr. Baggins. No doubt we shall feel properly grateful, when we are fed and recovered. In the meanwhile what next?

"I suggest Lake-town." Said Bilbo. "What else is there?"

Nothing else could, of course, be suggested; so leaving the others Thorin and Fili and Kill and the hobbit went along the shore to the great bridge. There were guards at the head of it, but they were not keeping very careful watch, for it was so long since there had been any real need. Except for occasional squabbles about river-tolls they were friends with the Wood-elves. Other folk were far away; and some of the younger people in town openly doubted the existence of any dragon in the mountain, and laughed at the greybeards and gammers who said that they had seen him flying in the sky in their young days. That being so it is not surprising that the guards were drinking and laughing by a fire in their hut, and did not hear the noise of the unpacking of the Dwarves or the footsteps of the four scouts. Their astonishment was enormous when Thorin Oakenshield stepped in through the door.

"Who are you and what do you want?" they shouted leaping to their feet and groping for weapons.

"Thorin son of Thráin son of Thrór, King under the Mountain!" said the Dwarf in a loud voice, and he looked it, in spite of his torn clothes and draggled hair. The gold gleamed on his neck and waist: his eyes were dark and deep. "I have come back. I wish to see the Master of your town!"

Then there was tremendous excitement. Some of the more foolish ran out of the hut as if they expected the Mountain to go golden in the night and all the waters of the lake to turn yellow right away. The captain of the guard came forward.

"And who are these?" he asked, pointing to Fili and Kili and Bilbo.

"The sons of my father's daughter," answered Thorin, "Fili and Kili of the race of Durin, and Mr. Baggins who has traveled with us out of the West."

"If you come in peace lay down your arms!" said the captain.

"We have none," said Thorin, and it was true enough: their knives had been taken from them by the Wood-elves, and the great sword Orcrist too. Bilbo had his short sword, hidden as usual, but he said nothing about that. "We have no need of weapons, who return at last to our own as spoken of old. Nor could we fight against so many. Take us to your master!"

"He is at feast." Said the captain.

"The all the more reason for taking us to him." Burst in Fili, who was getting impatient at these solemnities. "We are worn and famished after our long road and we have sick comrades. Now make haste and let us have no more words, or your master may have something to say to you."

"Follow me then," said the captain, and with six men about them he led them over the bridge through the gates and into the market-place of the town. This was a wide circle of quiet water surrounded by the tall pines on which were built the greater houses, and by long wooden quays with many steps and ladders going down to the surface of the lake. From one great hall shone many lights and there came the sound of many voices. They passed its doors and stood blinking in the light looking at long tables filled with folk.

"I am Thorin son of Thráin son of Thrór, King under the Mountain! I return!" cried Thorin in a loud voice from the door, before the captain could say anything.  
All leaped to their feet. The Master of the town sprang from his great chair. But none rose in greater surprise than the raft-men of the Elves who were sitting at the lower end of the hall. Pressing forward before the Master's table they cried:

"These are prisoners of our king that have escaped, wandering vagabond Dwarves that could not give any good account of themselves, sneaking through the woods and molesting our people!"

"Is this true?" asked the Master. As a matter of fact he thought it far more likely than the return of the King under the Mountain, if any such person had ever existed.

"It is true that we were wrongfully waylaid by the Elvenking and imprisoned without cause as we journeyed back to our own land." Answered Thorin. "But lock nor bar may hinder the homecoming spoken of old. Nor is this town in the Wood-elves' realm. I speak to the Master of the town of the Men of the lake, not to the raft-men of the king."

Then the Master hesitated and looked from one to the other. The Elvenking was very powerful in those parts and the Master wished for no enmity with him, nor did he think much of old songs, giving his mind to trade and tolls, to cargoes and gold, to which habit he owed his position. Others were of different mind, however, and quickly the matter was settled without him. The news had spread from the doors of the hall like fire through all the town. People were shouting inside the hall and outside it. The quays were thronged with hurrying feet. Some began to sing snatches of old songs concerning the return of the King under the Mountain; that it was Thrór's grandson not Thrór himself that had come back did not bother them at all. Others took up the song and it rolled loud and high over the lake.

_The King beneath the mountains,  
The King of carven stone,  
The lord of silver fountains  
Shall come into his own!_

_His crown shall be upholden,  
His harp shall be restrung,  
His halls shall echo golden  
To songs of yore re-sung._

_The woods shall wave on mountains.  
And grass beneath the sun:  
His wealth shall flow in fountains  
And the rivers golden run._

_The streams shall run in gladness,_  
_The lakes shall shine and burn,_  
_All sorrow fail and sadness_  
_At the Mountain-king's return!_

So they sang, or very like that, only there was a great deal more of it, and there was much shouting as well as the music of harps and fiddles mixed up in it. Indeed such excitement had not been known in the town in the memory of the oldest grandfather. The Wood-elves themselves began to wonder greatly and even to be afraid. They did not know of course how Thorin had escaped, and they began to wonder greatly and even to be afraid. They did not know of course how Thorin had escaped, and they began to think their king might have made a serious mistake. As for the Master he saw there was nothing else for it but to obey the general clamor, for the moment at any rate, and to pretend to believe that Thorin was what he said. So he gave up to him his own great chair and set Fili and Kili beside him in places of honor. Even Bilbo was given a seat at the high table, and no explanation of where he came in—no songs had alluded to him even in the obscurest way—was asked for in the general bustle.  
Soon afterwards the other Dwarves were brought into the town amid scenes of astonishing enthusiasm. They were all doctored and fed and housed and pampered in the most delightful and satisfactory fashion. A large house was given up to Thorin and his company; boats and rowers were put at their service; and crowds sat outside and sang songs all day, or cheered if any Dwarf showed so much as his nose.  
Some of the songs were old ones; but some of them were quite new and spoke confidently of the sudden death of the dragon and of cargoes of rich presents coming down the river to Lake-town. These were inspired largely by the Master and they did not particularly please the Dwarves, but in the meantime they were well contented and quickly grew fat and strong again. Indeed within a week they were quite recovered, fitted out in fine cloth, with beards combed and trimmed, and proud steps. Thorin looked and walked as if his kingdom was already regained and Smaug chopped to little pieces. Then, as he had said, the Dwarves' good feeling towards the little hobbit grew stronger every day. There were no more groans or grumbles. They drank his health, and they patted him on the back, and they made a great fuss of him; which was just as well, for he was not feeling particularly cheerful. He had not forgotten the look of the Mountain, nor the thought of the dragon, and he had besides a shocking cold. For three days he sneezed and coughed, and he could not go out, and even after that his speeches at banquets were limited to "Thag you very buch."

In the Meanwhile the Wood-elves had gone back up the Forest River with their cargoes, and there was once again a great excitement in the king's palace when everyone heard how the Dwarves had appeared in Lake-town just as suddenly as they had vanished from the king's halls. Nothing of course was ever said about keys or barrels while the Dwarves stayed in Lake-town, and Bilbo was careful never to become invisible. Still, I daresay, more was guessed than was known with Hannah keeping mum, though doubtless Mr. Baggins remained a bit of a mystery to most. In any case, the king (recalling the name Hannah had given for her 'invisible' friend) knew now who must have freed the Dwarves and how they must have escaped, or thought he did, and he said to himself:

"Very well! We'll see! No treasure will come back through Mirkwood without my having something to say in the matter. But I expect they will all come to a bad end, and serve them right!" He at any rate did not believe in Dwarves fighting and killing dragons like Smaug, and his initial suspicion of attempted burglary or something like it—shows he was a wise elf and wiser than the men of the town, though not quite right, as we shall see in the end. He sent out his spies about the shores of the lake and as far northward towards the Mountains as they would go, and waited. He thought Hannah's vague warnings ominous and foreboding, but as she was only a child (and one of questionable origins at that), he remained skeptical.

At the end of the fortnight Thorin began to think of departure. While the enthusiasm still lasted in the town was the time to get help. It would not do to let everything cool down with delay. So he spoke to the Master and his councilors and said that soon he and his company must go on towards the Mountain.  
Then for the first time the Master was surprised and a little frightened; and he wondered if Thorin was after all really a descendant of the old kings. He had never thought that the Dwarves would actually dare to approach Smaug, but believed they were frauds who would sooner or later be discovered and be turned out. He was wrong. Thorin, of course, was really the grandson of the King under the Mountain, and there is no knowing what a Dwarf will not dare and do for revenge or the recovery of his own.  
But the Master was not sorry to see them go. They were expensive to keep, and their arrival had turned things into a long holiday in which business was at a standstill. 'Let them go and bother Smaug, and see how he welcomes them!' he thought. "Certainly, O Thorin, Thráin's son, Thrór's son!" was what he said. "You must claim your own. The hour is at hand, spoken of old. What help we can offer shall be yours, and we trust to your gratitude when your kingdom is regained."  
So one day, although autumn was now getting far on, and winds were cold, and leaves were falling fast, three large boats left Lake-town, laden with rowers, Dwarves, Mr. Baggins, and many provisions. Horses and ponies had been sent round by circuitous paths to meet them at their appointed landing-place. The Master and his councilors bade them farewell from the great steps of the town-hall that went down to the lake. People sang on the quays and out of windows. The white oars dipped and splashed, and off they went north up the lake on the last stage of their long journey. The only person thoroughly unhappy was Bilbo.


	17. Chapter 17

**Previously:**

_So one day, although autumn was now getting far on, and winds were cold, and leaves were falling fast, three large boats left Lake-town, laden with rowers, Dwarves, Mr. Baggins, and many provisions. Horses and ponies had been sent round by circuitous paths to meet them at their appointed landing-place. The Master and his councilors bade them farewell from the great steps of the town-hall that went down to the lake. People sang on the quays and out of windows. The white oars dipped and splashed, and off they went north up the lake on the last stage of their long journey. The only person thoroughly unhappy was Bilbo._

* * *

**Chapter 17: On the Doorstep**

* * *

In two days going they rowed right up the Long Lake and passed out into the River Running, and now they could all see the Lonely Mountain towering grim and tall before them. The stream was strong and their going slow. At the end of the third day, some miles up the river, they drew in to the left or western bank and disembarked. Here they were joined by the horses with other provisions and necessaries and the ponies for their own use that had been sent to meet them. They packed what they could on the ponies and the rest was made into a store under a tent, but none of the men of the town would stay with them even for the night so near the shadow of the Mountain.

"Not at any rate until the songs have come true!" said they. It was easier to believe in the Dragon and less easy to believe in Thorin in these wild parts. Indeed their stores had no need of any guard, for all the land was desolate and empty. So their escorts left them, making off swiftly down the river and the shoreward paths, although the night was already drawing on.  
They spent a cold and lonely night and their spirits fell. The next day they set out again. Balin and Bilbo rode behind, each leading a pony heavily laden beside him; the others were some way ahead picking out the slow road, for there were no paths. They made northwest, slanting away from the River Running, and drawing ever nearer and nearer to a great spur of the Mountain that was flung out southwards towards them.  
It was a weary journey, and a quiet and stealthy one. There was no laughter or song, and the pride and hopes which had stirred in their hearts at the singing of old songs by the lake died away to a plodding gloom. They knew that they were drawing near to the end of their journey, and that it might be a very horrible end. The land about them grew bleak and barren, though once, as Thorin told them, it had been green and fair. There was little grass, and before long there was neither bush nor tree, and only blackened stumps to speak of ones long vanished. They had come to the Desolation of the Dragon, and they had come at the waning of the year.

They reached the skirts of the Mountain all the same without meeting any danger or any sign of the Dragon other than the wilderness he had made about his lair. The Mountain lay dark and silent before them and ever higher above them. They made their first camp on the western height side of the great southern spur, which ended in a height called Ravenhill. On this there had been an old watch-post; but they dared not climb it yet, it was too exposed.  
Before setting out to search the western spurs of the Mountain for the hidden door, on which all their hopes rested, Thorin sent out a scouting expedition to spy out the land to the South where the Front Gate stood. For this purpose he Balin and Fili and Kili, and with them went Bilbo. They marched under the grey and silent cliffs to the feet of Ravenhill. There the river, after winding a wide loop over the valley of Dale, turned from the Mountain on its road to the Lake, flowing swift and noisily. Its bank was bare and rocky, tall and steep above the stream; and gazing out from it over the narrow water, foaming and splashing among many boulders, they could see in the wide valley shadowed by the Mountain's arms the grey ruins of ancient houses, towers, and walls.

"There lies all that is left of Dale." Said Balin. "The mountain's sides were green with woods and all the sheltered valley rich and pleasant in the days when the bells rang in that town." He looked both sad and grim as he said this: he had been one of Thorin's companions on the day the Dragon came.  
They did not dare to follow the river much further towards the Gate; but they went on beyond the end of the southern spur, until lying hidden behind a rock they could look out and see the splendidly carved but dark cavernous opening in a great cliff-wall between the arms of the Mountain. Out of it the waters of the Running River sprang; and out of too there came a stream and a dark smoke. Nothing moved in the waste, save the vapor and the water, and every now and again a black and ominous crow. The only sound was the sound of the stony water, and every now and again the harsh croak of a bird. Balin shuddered.

"Let us return!" he said. "We can do no good here! And I don't like these dark birds, they look like spies of evil."

"The dragon is still alive and in the halls under the Mountain then—or I imagine so from the smoke." Said the hobbit.

"That does not prove it," said Balin, "though I don't doubt you are right. But he might be gone away some time, or he might be lying out on the mountain-side keeping watch, and still I expect smokes and steams would come out of the gates: all the halls within must be filled with his foul reek."

With such gloomy thoughts, followed ever by croaking crows above them, they made their weary way back to the camp. Only in June they had been guests in the fair house of Elrond, and though autumn was now crawling towards winter that pleasant time now seemed years ago. They were alone in the perilous waste without hope of future help. They were at the end of their journey, but as far as ever, it seemed, from the end of their quest. None of them had much spirit left.  
Now strange to say Mr. Baggins had more than the others. He would often borrow Thorin's map and gaze at it, pondering over the runes and the message of the moon-letters Elrond had read. It was he that made the Dwarves begin the dangerous search on the western slopes for the secret door. They moved their camp then to a long valley, narrower than the great dale in the South where the Gates of the river stood, and walled with lower spurs of the Mountain. Two of these here thrust forward west from the main mass in long steep-sided ridges that fell ever downwards towards the plain. On this western side there were fewer signs of the dragon's marauding feet, and there was some grass for their ponies. From this western camp, shadowed all day by cliff and wall until the sun began to sink towards the forest, day by day they toiled in parties searching for paths up the mountain-side. If the map was true, somewhere high above the cliff at the valley's head must stand the secret door. Day by day they came back to the camp without success.  
But at last unexpectedly they found what they were seeking. Fili and Kili and the hobbit went back one day down the valley and scrambled among the tumbled rocks at its southern corner. About midday, creeping behind a great stone that stood alone like a pillar, Bilbo came on what looked like rough steps going upwards. Following these excitedly he and the Dwarves found traces of a narrow track, often lost, often rediscovered, that wandered on to the top of the southern ridge and brought them at last to a still narrower ledge, which turned north across the face of the Mountain. Looking down they saw that they were at the top of the cliff at the valley's head and were gazing down on to their own camp below. Silently, clinging to the rocky wall on their right, they went in single file along the ledge, till the wall opened and they turned into a little steep-walled bay, grassy-floored, still and quiet. Its entrance which they had found could not be seen from below because of the overhang of the cliff, nor from further off because it was so small it looked like a crack and no more. It was not a cave and was open to the sky above; but at its inner end a flat wall rose up that in the lower part, close to the ground, was as smooth and upright as mason's work, but without a joint or crevice to be seen. No sign was there of post or lintel or threshold, nor any sign of bar or bolt or key-hole; yet they did not doubt that they had found the door at last.  
They beat on it, they thrust and pushed at it, they implored it to move, they spoke fragments of broken spells of opening, and nothing stirred. At last tired out they rested on the grass at its feet, and then at evening began their long climb down.

There was excitement in the camp that night. In the morning they prepared to move once more. Only Bofur and Bombur were left behind to guard the ponies and such stores as they had brought with them from the river. The others went down the valley and up the newly found path, and so to the narrow ledge. Along this they could carry no bundles or packs, so narrow and breathless was it, with a fall of a hundred and fifty feet beside them on to sharp rocks below; but each of them took a good coil of rope wound tight about his waist, and so at last without mishap they reached the little grassy bay.  
There they made their third camp, hauling up what they needed from below with their ropes. Down the same way they were occasionally able to lower one of the more active Dwarves, such as Kili, to exchange such news as there was, or to share in the guard below, while Bofur was hauled up to the higher camp. Bomber would not come up either the rope or the path.

"I am too fat for such fly-walks." He said. "I should turn dizzy and tread on my beard, and then you would be thirteen again. And the knotted ropes are too slender for my weight." Luckily for him that was not true, as you will see.  
In the meantime some of them explored the ledge beyond the opening and found a path that led higher and higher on to the mountain; but they did not dare to venture very far that way, nor was there much use in it. Out up there a silence reigned, broken by no bird or sound except that of the wind in the crannies of stone. They spoke low and never called or sang, for danger brooded in every rock. The others who were busy with the secret of the door had no more success. They were too eager to trouble about the runes or the moon-letters, but tired without resting to discover where exactly in the smooth surface of the rock the door was hidden. They had brought picks and tools of many sorts from Lake-town, and at first they tried to use these. But when they struck the stone the handles splintered and jarred their arms cruelly, and the steel heads broke or bent like lead. Mining work, they saw clearly was no good against the magic that had shut this door; and they grew terrified, too, of the echoing noise.  
Bilbo found sitting on the doorstep lonesome and wearisome—there was not a doorstep, of course, really, but they used to call the little grassy space between the wall and the opening the 'doorstep' in fun.  
Their spirits had risen a little at the discovery of the path, but now they sank into their boots; and yet they would not give it up and go away. The hobbit was no longer much brighter than the Dwarves. He would do nothing but sit with his back to the rock-face and stare away west through the opening, over the cliff, over the wide lands to the black wall of Mirkwood, and to the distances beyond, in which he sometimes thought he could catch glimpses of the Misty Mountains small and far. If the Dwarves asked him what he was doing he answered:

"You said sitting on the doorstep and thinking would be my job, not to mention getting inside, so I am sitting and thinking." But I am afraid he was not thinking much of the job, but of the absent Hannah and of what lay beyond the blue distance, the quiet Western Land and the Hill and his hobbit-hole under it.  
A large grey stone lay in the center of the grass and he stared moodily at it or watched the great snails. They seemed to love the little shut-in bay with its walls of cool rock, and there were many of them of huge size crawling slowly and stickily along its sides.

"I see you finally have the full use of your leg once again." Legolas remarked when came to visit Hannah once again and found her enjoying herself doing whatever exercise she could manage in her small prison.

"Yes." smile Hannah. Though she couldn't exactly go anywhere, it was still a great relief to finally be completely mobile again.

"As the king appears to have decided not to pursue your companions, and we have already guessed a great deal for ourselves about your venture, surely there can be no harm in your sharing some of it with me." The prince suggested, clearly hinting that he would like to hear another tale about the world outside his forest. Hannah thought about it for a moment, and decided there would be no harm in sharing what she could remember about the early part of her adventure. If the Elvenking planned on interfering with the Dwarves he would have undoubtedly taken further action on the matter by now. And perhaps she could help clear Thorin's name somewhat since she had heard he was accused of having stolen his great sword, which we of course know was not at all true. Legolas great intent as she began with the hobbit's reluctant recruitment for the adventure and found their altercation with the trolls most amusing (which it was, looking back now that the danger of that altercation had passed). But when she came to the part of how they had been chased by a hunting party of Orcs astride large wolf-like beasts that had been identified as Gundabad Wargs his expression suddenly darkened. Upon asking what was the matter, she learned that Gundabad was an old Orc stronghold in the far north of the Misty Mountains, one that was thought to have been long abandoned, and that his mother had died in that fell place.

"The king does not speak of it." the prince said grimly with his head lowered. Had he not overheard the whispers of the other Elves as a child, he would know nothing of it. "There is no grave, no memory, nothing." He looked up when Hannah reached out through the bars of the cell door to gently place one of her hands hand on his.

"I'm sorry for your loss." She said sincerely with understanding eyes. "My mother also died when I was young—well, younger than I am now. She passed away five years ago."

"I am sorry." Said Legolas with no small amount of sympathy.

"Thank you. So am I." said Hannah with a sad smile as painful memories resurfaced. "She and my father worked as healers… until she contracted a fatal illness from one of the patients she attended. My parents were terrified that my brother and I might catch it, so once they recognized the symptoms, my mother stopped coming home and began staying at the hospital. My father worked tirelessly to try to save her, but they wouldn't let me in to see her. No matter how much I cried and begged and screamed they wouldn't let me any where near her." She bit her lip and blinked back the tears that had begun to form in her violet eyes and exhaled a ragged whisper. "But I didn't have to see to know what was happening to her. I'd overheard my parents discussing the effects of this particular disease on other patients, so I could imagine for myself how much she must have suffered. In the end, despite all my father's best efforts, she died choking on her own blood, just the same as all the others. I never got to say goodbye. And my father never got over her death." Hannah still remembered how sometimes, back then when she would watch him from a distance without his knowing, she would get this terribly lonely feeling, like the time her parents left her with her grandfather so that they could have a short holiday together without her; and she became terrified that he might be thinking of leaving her and Jacob to follow their mother. "He did his best to carry on, for me and for Jacob. But he was never the same. And it became taboo to even so much as mention her name around him, not because he wanted to forget her, but because remembering how much he still loved her even after she was gone was too painful for him to bear." Legolas gazed at the stone floor, deep in thought.

"You think it was the same for my father? That his reluctance to speak of my mother is due to grief?"

"I would not dare to presume to speak for the king… But for myself, I have found that the saying 'time heals all wounds' is not necessarily true. It's in these moments of tender and ridiculous nostalgia that I know something inside of me is still broken. The wounds remain. With time the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone. Everyone has their own way of dealing with grief, but the one thing we all have in common is that we must learn how to make room for it. If not it will eat us all alive from the inside out. The best that we can do is not to let the damage control our lives."

Legolas looked long and hard at his little friend. Though she was only a mere fourteen years of age there were moments such as this where the wisdom she exhibited astonished the prince. Already she had seen and experienced much for one so young. But she wasn't bitter. She was a little sad perhaps, but it was a hopeful kind of sadness; the kind that just takes time and a willingness to continue moving forward through the world.  
They talked a little longer and allowed the conversation to drift back to lighter topics. Hannah told the prince a bit more about her imp of a younger brother, who seemed to never tire of trying to drag her into some misadventure or another, and he in turn told her one or two stories from his own childhood in the forest, back when it was still called Greenwood and was a much more wholesome place to call home.

"You are going to be late, Legolas." The king cautioned his son, stepping into view. It was time for the prince to join the guard for a patrol through the forest to take care of yet another nest of spiders. Upon realizing the time Legolas quickly took his leave from his friend and his father, leaving the two of them alone. Hannah shifted a bit nervously under the Elvenking's intense gaze while he took a moment to regard the young girl. Having been concerned by the ever increasing amount of time his son spent with their prisoner, he had decided to keep an eye on the prince personally and had overheard much of their conversation.

"I think I am beginning to see the reason for my son's odd fascination with you." He said at last. "You are unlike the other children of your race." Her mental development seemed closer to that of an elfling's than that of a child of Man.

"I shall take that as a compliment." Said Hannah, not quite sure what to make of the comment. "But is your highness so worried of leaving him alone with me that you must eavesdrop on private conversations?" The information she had shared with Legolas had been of a very personal nature.

"I will not tolerate my son being hurt." Answered Thranduil sternly, not liking her tone.

"I would never—"

"No, you wouldn't, not intentionally." He agreed. "But you are mortal, and mortals die. The more attached to you he becomes the harder it will be for him when you are gone. A Man's life is but the blink of an eye for an Elf, but his memory of you will endure and brig him a disproportional amount of grief and pain to the very short amount of time you might spend together. I will not see my son put through that kind of suffering."

"Does he know of this concern of yours?" asked Hannah with a frown.

"Yes, and I told him to stay away from you. But you have seen how well he listens. He is still young for an Elf and does not yet fully understand death as well as he might."

"Does anyone ever fully understand death?" asked Hannah. "I think the only ones who do are the dearly departed, but they as are unable to share this knowledge with us, to the living it will always remains something of a mystery. But just because we can no longer see them does not mean that they have completely disappeared and become forever lost to us. I believe there is an afterlife where we shall all one day be reunited with those who went before us. I also believe that until that time, our loved ones are watching over us from above and protecting us. I've had my fair share of brushes with death, yet despite all odds, I am still here." She said with a small smile. "You should tell Legolas, about his mother." She continued suddenly. "Children want to know where they come from. Since my father couldn't bear to speak of her, it fell to me to tell my brother about our mother and share with him our cherished memories of her. But Legolas has only you. Like my brother, who was too young at the time to understand what was happening or to have any clear memories of his own, he needs to know that he was loved."

"He knows even without my having to say anything." Said the king stiffly.

"There are some things that are still best when heard said aloud." Said Hannah knowingly. Thranduil noticed that her fingers were playing with the small cross pendant on the fine gold chain round her neck as she spoke.

"Was that a gift from your mother?"

"It used to be hers." She said with a small and a look of fond nostalgia in her eyes. "Many of her belongings had to be burned, as is common to prevent the spread of infection, but my father was able to salvage some mementos for us. I had wanted the string of pearls he had given her, because she never went any where without them, and even in my earliest memories I remember the feel of them against my cheek when I rested my head in the warm crook of her slender neck while she held me in her arms, and smelled her perfume and was lulled to sleep by my favorite lullabies. I could not picture her without them, and to me they felt as much a part of her as the soft hair that would tickle my nose and the warm and gentle hands that used to hold mine whenever I was afraid. But my father had said I was too young to wear them, so he gave me this necklace, which had been a keepsake from her own childhood." And now, having been separated from the rest of her family, it was the only thing she had left of her or any of them, for that matter. Though plain and unadorned it was precious to her beyond measure, and the king could see this. Watching now how she cherished the simple necklace that had once belonged to her mother, Thranduil was beginning to feel a tinge of regret for his harsh words towards her about there being nothing childlike about her. It was very obvious now that despite her bravery in the face of adversity and how much the girl tried to act like an adult, she was still an innocent and vulnerable child at heart. Perhaps, in his haste to protect his own, he had passed judgment upon her too hastily.

"Your majesty." Said Hannah, stopping the king as he turned to leave. "I know and understand why you are so protective of your son. I know from watching my own father that it must be especially difficult for men who have been left with children who serve as a constant reminder of the women they have loved and lost. We are viewed as living legacies and a connection to them that must be protected at all cost, and I imagine it must be terrifying to think that we could be lost just as suddenly and easily as our mothers. But we cannot and will not stay children forever. Eventually we must all leave the safety of the nest and spread our wings so that we may learn to fly. We must be allowed to make our own mistakes in order to learn how to grow from them. You must let Legolas make his own choices, or he will not know how to live without you. None of us can ever know what the future will hold. Life is too unpredictable for that. And nothing is permanent in this world, not even our troubles. My Zayde, my grandfather, taught me that we do not heal the past by dwelling there; we heal the past by living fully in the present. Time heals nothing unless you move along with it."

"You are far too sensible and pragmatic for someone so young." He told her without turning back.

"Perhaps we age with the damage and responsibilities rather than the years." She answered with a wan smile as he walked away.


	18. Chapter 18

**Previously:**

_"Your majesty." Said Hannah, stopping the king as he turned to leave. "I know and understand why you are so protective of your son. I know from watching my own father that it must be especially difficult for men who have been left with children who serve as a constant reminder of the women they have loved and lost. We are viewed as living legacies and a connection to them that must be protected at all cost, and I imagine it must be terrifying to think that we could be lost just as suddenly and easily as our mothers. But we cannot and will not stay children forever. Eventually we must all leave the safety of the nest and spread our wings so that we may learn to fly. We must be allowed to make our own mistakes in order to learn how to grow from them. You must let Legolas make his own choices, or he will not know how to live without you. None of us can ever know what the future will hold. Life is too unpredictable for that. And nothing is permanent in this world, not even our troubles. My Zayde, my grandfather, taught me that we do not heal the past by dwelling there; we heal the past by living fully in the present. Time heals nothing unless you move along with it."_

_"You are far too sensible and pragmatic for someone so young." He told her without turning back._

_"Perhaps we age with the damage and responsibilities rather than the years." She answered with a wan smile as he walked away._

* * *

**Chapter 18: Inside Information**

* * *

"Tomorrow begins the last week of Autumn." Said Thorin one day.

"And winter comes after autumn." Said Bifur in Dwarvish.

"And next year after that," said Dwalin, "and our beards will grow till they hang down the cliff to the valley below us before anything happens here. What is our burglar doing for us? Since he has got an invisible ring, and ought to a specially excellent performer now, I am beginning to think he might go through the Front Gate and spy things out a bit!"

Bilbo heard this—the Dwarves were on the rocks just above the enclosure where he was sitting— and 'Good Gracious!' he thought, 'so that is what they are beginning to think, is it? It id always poor me that has to get them out of their difficulties, at least since the wizard left. Whatever am I going to do? I might have known that something dreadful would happen to me in the end. I don't think I could bear to see the unhappy valley of Dale again, and as for that steaming gate_!_!_!_'  
That night he was very miserable and hardly slept. Next day the Dwarves all went wandering off in various directions; some were exercising the ponies down below, some were roving about the mountain-side. All day Bilbo sat gloomily in the grassy bay gazing at the stone, or out west through the narrow opening. He had a queer feeling that he was waiting for something. 'Perhaps the wizard will suddenly come back today, or Hannah has been set free or managed to escape on her own and is coming to meet us,' he thought.  
If he lifted his head he could see a glimpse of the distance forest. As the sun turned west there was a gleam of yellow upon its far roof, as if the light caught the last pale leaves. Soon he saw the orange ball of the sun sinking towards the level of his eyes. He went to the opening and there pale and faint was a thin new moon above the rim of Earth.  
At that very moment he heard a sharp crack behind him. There on the grey stone in the grass was an enormous thrush, nearly coal black, its pale yellow breast flecked with dark spots. Crack! It had caught a snail and was knocking it on the stone. Crack! Crack!  
Suddenly Bilbo understood. Forgetting all danger he stood on the ledge and hailed the Dwarves, shouting and waving. Those that were nearest came tumbling over the rocks and as fast as they could along the ledge to him, wondering what on earth was the matter; the others shouted to be hauled up the ropes (except Bombur, of course: he was asleep).  
Quickly Bilbo explained. They all fell silent: the hobbit standing by the grey stone, and the Dwarves with wagging beards watching impatiently. The sun sank lower and lower, and their hopes fell. It sank into a belt of reddened cloud and disappeared. The Dwarves groaned, but still Bilbo stood almost without moving. The little moon was dipping into the horizon. Evening was coming on. Then suddenly when their hope was lowest a red ray of the sun escaped like a finger through a rent in the cloud. A gleam of light came straight through the opening into the bay and fell on the smooth rock-face. The old thrush, who had been watching from a high perch with beady eyes and head cocked on one side, gave a sudden trill. There was a loud crack. A flake of rock split from the wall and fell. A hole appeared suddenly about three feet from the ground.  
Quickly, trembling lest the chance should fade, the Dwarves rushed to the rock and pushed—in vain.

"The key! The key!" cried Bilbo. "Where is Thorin?"

Thorin hurried up.

"The key!" shouted Bilbo. "The key that went with the map! Try it now while there is still time!"

Then Thorin stepped up and drew the key on its chain from round his neck. He put it to the hole. It fitted and it turned! Snap! The gleam went out, the sun sank, the moon was gone, and evening sprang into the sky.  
Now they all pushed together, and slowly a part of the rock-wall gave way. Long straight cracks appeared and widened. A door five feet high and three feet broad was outlined, and slowly without a sound swung inwards. It seemed as if darkness flowed out like a vapor from the hole in the mountain-side, and deep darkness in which nothing could be seen lay before their eyes, a yawning mouth leading in and down.  
For a long time the Dwarves stood in the dark before the door and debated, until at last Thorin spoke:

"Now is the time for our esteemed Mr. Baggins, who has proved himself a good companion on our long road, and hobbit full of courage and resource far exceeding his size, and if I may say so possessed of good luck far exceeding the usual allowance—now is the time for him to perform the service for which he was included in our Company; now it is time for him to earn his Reward."

You are familiar with Thorin's style on important occasions, so I will not give you any more of it, but he went on a good deal longer than this. It certainly was an important occasion, but Bilbo felt impatient. By now he was quite familiar with Thorin too, and he knew what he was driving at.

"If you mean you think it is my job to go into the secret passages first, O Thorin Thráin's son Oakenshield, may your beard grow ever longer," he said crossly, "say so at once and have done! I might refuse. I have got you out of two messes already, which were hardly in the original bargain, so that I am, I think, already owed some reward. But 'third time pays for all' as my father used to say, and somehow I don't think I shall refuse. Perhaps I have begun to trust my luck more than I used to in the old days"—he meant last spring before he left his own house, but it seemed centuries ago—"but anyway I think I will go and have a peep at once and get it over. Now who is coming with me?"

He did not expect a chorus of volunteers, so he was not disappointed. Fili and Kili looked uncomfortable and stood on one leg, but the others made no pretense of offering—except old Balin, the look-out man, who was rather fond of the hobbit. He said he would come inside at least and perhaps a bit of the way too, really to call for help if necessary.  
The most that can be said for the Dwarves is this: they intended to pay Bilbo handsomely for his services; they had brought him to do a nasty job for them, and they did not mind the poor little fellow doing it if he would; but they would all have done their best to get him out of trouble, if he got into it, as they did in the case of the trolls at the beginning of their adventures before they had any particular reasons for being grateful to him. There it is: Dwarves are not heroes, but calculating folk with a great idea of the value o f money; some are tricky and treacherous and pretty bad lots; some are not, but are decent enough people like Thorin and Company, if you don't expect too much.

The stars were coming out behind him in a pale sky barred with black when the hobbit crept through the enchanted door and stole into the Mountain. It was far easier going than he expected. This was no rough goblin entrance, or winding Wood-elves' cave. It was a passage made by Dwarves, the height of their wealth and skill: straight as a ruler, smooth-floored and smooth-sided, going with a gentle never-varying slope direct—to some distant end in the blackness below. As they walked Balin outlined the task that the hobbit was expected to complete in greater detail. They of course wished for him to recover as much of their lost treasure from the Dragon's hoard as he was able, but their chief concern lay with the recovery of very special jewel known as the Arkenstone.

"You want me to find a jewel?" asked Bilbo.

"A large white jewel, yes." answered Balin.

"That's it? Only I imagine there are quite a few down there."

"There is only one Arkenstone. And you'll know it when you see it." said Balin gravely, as that should be all the explanation he needed.

"Right." Said Bilbo, wishing the Dwarf could be a little less vague.

"In truth, lad," said Balin with a sigh, "I do not know what you will find down there. You needn't go if you don't want to. There's no dishonor in turning back."

"No, Balin. I promised I would do this. And I think I must try." Answered Bilbo resolutely, despite his own nervousness. Suddenly Balin chuckled.

"It never ceases to amaze me!" said the Dwarf.

"What's that?"

"The courage of Hobbits."

Bilbo smiled.

With that settled they continued on. After a while Balin stopped where he could still see the faint outline of the door, and by a trick of the echoes of the tunnel hear the rustle of the whispering voices of the others just outside, and the Dwarf bade Bilbo "Good luck!" and the hobbit nodded and was about to slip on his ring before continuing on when Balin added: "Oh, and, Bilbo."

"Mm?" said the hobbit.

"If there is in fact a, um, live dragon down there… don't waken it."

Once again, though more grimly this time, Bilbo nodded in understanding. Then the hobbit slipped on his ring, and warned by the echoes to take more than a hobbit's care to make no sound, he crept noiselessly down, down, down, into the dark. He was trembling with fear, but his little face was set and grim. Already he was a very different hobbit from the one that had run out without a pocket-handkerchief from Bag End long ago. He had not had a pocket-handkerchief (there one Hannah had lent to him was now reduced to little more than a scrap by all the wear and tear it had been subjected to over the course of their journey) for ages. He loosened his dagger in its sheath, tightened his belt, and went on.

"Now you are in for it at last, Bilbo Baggins." He said to himself. "You went and put your foot right in it the night of the party, and now you have to pull it out and pay for it! Dear me, what a fool I was and am!" said the least Tookish part of him. "I have absolutely no use for dragon-guarded treasures, and the whole lot could stay here forever, if only I could wake up and find this beastly tunnel was my own front-hall at home!"

He did not wake up of course, but went still on and on, till all sign of the door behind him had faded away. He was altogether alone. Soon he thought it was beginning to feel warm. 'Is that a kind of glow I seem to see coming right ahead down there?' he thought.  
It was. As he went forward it grew and grew, till there was no doubt about it. It was a red light steadily getting redder and redder. Also it was now undoubtedly hot in the tunnel. Wisps of vapor floated up and past him and he began to sweat. A sound, too, began to throb in his ears, a sort of bubbling like the noise of a large pot galloping on the fire, mixed with a rumble as of a gigantic tom-cat purring. This grew to the unmistakable gurgling noise of some vast animal snoring in its sleep down there in the red glow in front of him.  
It was at this point that Bilbo stopped. Going on from there was the bravest thing he ever did. The tremendous things that happened afterward were as nothing compared to it. He fought the real battle in the tunnel alone, before he ever saw the vast danger that lay in wait. At any rate after a short halt go on he did; and you can picture him coming to the end of the tunnel, an opening of much the same size and shape as the door above. Through it peeps the hobbit's little head. Before him lies the great bottommost cellar or dungeon-hall of the ancient Dwarves right at the Mountain's root. It is almost dark so that its vastness can only be dimly guessed, but rising from the near side of the rocky floor there is a great glow. The glow of Smaug!

There he lay, a vast red-golden dragon, fast asleep; a thrumming came from his jaws and nostrils, and wisps of smoke, but his fires were low in slumber. Beneath him, under all his limbs and his huge coiled tail, and about him on all sides stretching away across the unseen floors, lay countless piles of precious things, gold wrought and unwrought, gems and jewels, and silver red-stained in the ruddy light.  
Smaug lay, with wings folded like an immeasurable bat, turned partly on one side, so that the hobbit could see his underparts and his long pale belly crusted with gems and fragments of gold from his long lying on his costly bed, behind him where the walls were nearest could dimly be seen coats of mail, helms, axes, swords and pears hanging; and there in rows stood great jars and vessels filled with wealth that could not be guessed.  
To say that Bilbo's breath was taken away is no description at all. There are no words left to express his staggerment, since Men changed the language that they learned of Elves in the days when all the world was wonderful. Bilbo had heard tell and sing of dragon-hoards before, but the splendor, the lust, the glory of such treasure had never yet come home to him. His heart was filled and pierced with enchantment and with the desire of the Dwarves; and he gazed motionless, almost forgetting the frightful guardian, at the gold beyond price and count.

He gazed for what seemed an age, before drawn almost against his will, he stole from the shadow of the doorway, across the floor to the nearest edge of the mounds of treasure. Above him the sleeping dragon lay, a dire menace even in his sleep. Just as the hobbit had feared the vague description that Balin had given him of the Arkenstone was not at all helpful. There were so many 'large white gems' mixed in among the vast hoard that it was rather like trying to find a needle in a haystack. He grasped an especially large and unshaped white gem-stone to inspect it, and cast one fearful eye upwards. Smaug stirred a wing, opened a claw, the rumble of his snoring changed its note.  
Bilbo stiffened in alarm, ready to make a run for it. But the dragon did not wake—not yet—but shifted into other dreams of greed and violence, lying there in his stolen hall while the hobbit allowed himself to breath again. His heart was beating and a more fevered shaking was in his legs than when he was going down, but still he continued his search for the Arkenstone. Unfortunately for Bilbo, its next most likely candidate was much closer to the sleeping dragon. The hobbit crept forward with greater care than ever and gingerly removed the gleaming jewel. Unfortunately, this time the dragon did wake, and Bilbo quickly dropped what was in his hand and instinctively ducked for cover, despite still being thoroughly invisible. Dragons may not have much real use for all their wealth, but they know it to an ounce as a rule, especially after long possession; and Smaug was no exception. He had passed from an uneasy dream (in which a warrior, altogether insignificant in size but provided with a bitter sword and great courage, figured most unpleasantly) to a doze, and from a doze to wide waking. There was a breath of strange air in his cave. Could there be a draught from that little hole? He had never felt quite happy about it, though it was so small, and now he glared at it with open suspicion and wondered why he had never blocked it up. Of late he had half fancied he had caught the dim echoes of a knocking sound from far above that came down through it to his lair. He stirred and stretched forth his neck to sniff. He growled lightly.

"Well, thief…" the Dragon's deep voice rumbled as he took another sniff at the air, turning his head in the hobbit's direction. "I smell you. I hear your breath. I feel your air. Where are you? Where are you?" asked Smaug drawing closer until his great snout was only an inch away. I'm afraid this proved too much for Bilbo, and he made a mad dash for it. Though Smaug could not see the hobbit himself, the gold scattering in his wake gave away poor Bilbo's position. The great serpent slithered round the pillars of the hall, sliding across the gold to cut off his escape; the hobbit quickly stepped back into the crevice of another pillar to hide. "Come now. Don't be shy." Said the Dragon. "Step into the light." Of course Bilbo did no such thing and kept well out of the way while Smaug continued to look around. "Hmm. There is something about you. Something you carry. Something made of gold. But far more… precious." The word 'precious' seemed to echo in Bilbo's head until he saw a flash of something like a great flaming eye. Frightened, the hobbit quickly removed the ring from his finger and found that he had unwittingly revealed himself.

"There you are, thief in the shadows." Said Smaug smugly upon spotting him.

"I did not come to steal from you, O Smaug, the Tremendous!" Said Bilbo humbly in a trembling voice. "I merely wanted to gaze upon your magnificence, to see if you really were as great as the old tales say. I did not believe them!"

"And do you now?" said the Dragon somewhat flattered, though he did not believe a word of it, as he stepped round the hobbit to stand in front of him and reveal his full stature, drawing himself up to his full height.

"Truly. The tales and songs fall utterly short of the reality, O Smaug the Chiefest and Greatest of Calamities."

"You have nice manners for a thief and a liar. Do you think flattery will keep you alive?" sneered the Dragon.

"No, no." stammered the nervous and anxious hobbit.

"No indeed." Said Smaug. "You seem familiar with my name, but I don't remember smelling your kind before. Who are you and where do you come from, may I ask?"

Bilbo opened his mouth, about to answer, when suddenly his eyes were drawn to a little globe of pallid light. It was the Arkenstone, the Heart of the Mountain. Indeed there could be not two such gems, even in so marvelous a hoard, even in all the world. He forced himself to tear his eyes away from it and focus on its terrible guardian.

"I-I come from under the hill and under the hills and over the hills my paths have led. And through the air, I am he that walks unseen."

"Impressive," said Smaug, "but that is hardly your usual name."

"I am the clue-finder, the web-cutter, the stinging fly. I was chosen for the lucky number."

"Lovely titles!" sneered the dragon. "But lucky numbers don't always come off."

"I am he who buries his friends alive and drowns them and draws them alive again from the water. I came from the end of a bag, but no bag went over me."

"These don't sound so credible scoffed Smaug.

"I am the friend of bears and the guest of eagles. I am Ringwinner and Luckwearer; and I am Barrel-rider," went on Bilbo beginning to be pleased with his riddling.

"That's better!" said Smaug. "But don't let your imagination run away with you!"

This of course is the way you talk to dragons, if you don't want to reveal your proper name (which is wise), and don't want to infuriate them by a flat out refusal (which is also very wise). No dragon can resist the fascination of riddling talk and of wasting time trying to understand it. There was a lot here which Smaug did not understand at all (though I expect you do, since you know all about Bilbo's adventures to which he was referring), but he thought he understood enough, and he chuckled in his wicked inside.

'I thought so.' He smiled to himself. 'Lake-men, some nasty scheme of those miserable tub-trading Lake-men, or I'm a lizard. I haven't been down that way for an age and an age; but I will soon alter that!'  
"Very well, O Barrel-rider!" he said aloud. "Now that is interesting. And what about your little Dwarf friends? Where are they hiding?"

"D-Dwarves?" said Bilbo in pretend surprise. "No, no. No Dwarves here. You've got that all wrong."

"Oh, I don't think so!" said Smaug. "I know the smell (and taste) of Dwarf—no one better. You'll come to a bad end, if you go with such friends. Thief Barrel-rider. I don't mind if you go back and tell them so from me." But he did not tell Bilbo that he could not make out his hobbit-smell at all. It was quite outside his experience and puzzled him mightily. "I suppose they are skulking about outside, and your job is to do all the dangerous work and get what you can when I'm not looking—for them? And will you get a fair share? Don't you believe it! If you get off alive, you will be lucky."

The dragon paced as he spoke, and Bilbo was alarmed when one of his claws disturbed the gold near the Arkenstone enough to send it tumbling down and away. Fearing that if he lost sight of it now he might never find it again, the hobbit quickly pretended to take a misstep and rolled down and away after it.

"Did you think I did not know this day would come? When a pack of canting Dwarves would come crawling back to the Mountain? It is the gold—they are drawn to it like flies to dead flesh!" roared the dragon.

"You don't know everything, O Smaug the Mighty." Said the hobbit, plucking up the courage to speak again. "Not gold alone brought us hither."

"Ha! Ha! You admit the 'us'." Laughed Smaug. "I am pleased to hear that you had other business in these parts besides my gold. In that case you may, perhaps, not altogether waste your time.  
"I don't know if it has occurred to you that, even if you could steal the gold bit by bit—a matter of a hundred years or so—you could not get it very far? Not much use on the mountain-side? Not much use in the forest? Bless me! Had you never thought of the catch? An equal share, I suppose, or something like it, those were the terms, eh? But what about delivery? What about cartage? What about armed guards and tolls? They promised it as if it was theirs to give, but I will not part with a single coin! Not one piece of it!" And Smaug laughed aloud. He had a wicked and wily heart, and he knew his guesses were not far out, though he suspected the Lake-men were at the back of the plans, and that most of the plunder was meant to stop there in the town by the shore that in his young days had been called Esgaroth.  
You will hardly believe it, but poor Bilbo was really very taken aback. So far all his thoughts and energies had been concentrated on getting to the Mountain and finding the entrance. He had never bothered to wonder how the treasure was to be removed, certainly never how any part of it that might fall to his share was to be brought back all the way to Bag-End Under-Hill.  
Now a nasty suspicion began to grow in his mind—had the Dwarves forgotten this important point too, or were they laughing in their sleeves at him all the time? That is the effect that dragon-talk has on the inexperienced. Bilbo of course ought to have been on his guard; but Smaug had an overwhelming personality.

"I tell you," he said, in an effort to remain loyal to his friends and to keep his end up, "that gold was only an after thought with us. We came over hill and under hill, by wave and win, for _Revenge_. Surely, O Smaug the unassessably wealthy, you must realize that your success has made you some bitter enemies?"

Then Smaug really did laugh—a devastating sound which shook Bilbo and the floor, while far up in the gassy bay by the side-door the Dwarves cried out in surprise and huddled together when suddenly a vast rumbling woke in the mountain as if it was an old volcano that had made up its mind to start eruptions once again. The door behind them was nearly pulled to, and blocked from closing with a stone, but up the long tunnel came the dreadful echoes, from far down in the depths, of a bellowing and a trampling that made the ground beneath them tremble.

"Was that an earthquake?" asked Kili.

"That, my lad, was a Dragon." Said Balin grimly as he looked back at the tunnel, afraid for their burglar.

"Revenge!" Smaug snorted, and the light of his eyes lit the hall from floor to ceiling like scarlet lightning. "Revenge! The King under the Mountain is dead! I took his throne. And where are his kin that dare seek revenge? Girion Lord of Dale is dead, and I have eaten his people like a wolf among sheep, and where are his sons that dare approach me? I kill where I wish and none dare resist. I laid low the warriors of old and their like is not in the world today. Then I was but young and tender. Now I am old and strong, strong, strong. Thief in the Shadows!" he gloated. "My armor is like tenfold shields, my teeth are swords, my claws spears, the shock of my tail a thunderbolt, my wings a hurricane, and my breath death!"

"What about Bilbo?" asked Ori.

"Give him more time." Said Thorin.

"Time to do what?" asked Balin. "To be killed?"

"You're afraid." Said Thorin.

"Yes, I'm afraid. I fear for you." Said Balin. "A sickness lies upon that treasure hoard. A sickness which drove your grandfather mad."

"I am not my grandfather." Said Thorin.

"You're not yourself. The Thorin I know would not hesitate to go in there—"

"I will not risk this quest for the life of one burglar."

"Bilbo. His name is Bilbo." Balin reminded him.

"So, it's Oakenshield." Said Smaug as he continued to circle the hobbit in his lair like a large cat playing with a tiny mouse. "That filthy Dwarvish usurper. He sent you in here for the Arkenstone, didn't he? Don't bother denying it. I guessed his foul purpose some time ago. But it matters not. Oakenshield's quest will fail. The Darkness is coming. It will spread to every corner of the land."

"I have always understood," said Bilbo in a frightened squeak, "that dragons were softer underneath, especially in the region of the—er—chest; but doubtless one so fortified has thought of that."

The dragon stopped short in his boasting. "Your information is antiquated," he snapped; "I am armored above and below with iron scales and hard gems. No blade can pierce me."

"I might have guessed it." said Bilbo. "Truly there can nowhere be found the equal of Lord Smaug the Impenetrable. What magnificence to possess a waistcoat of fine diamonds!"

"Yes, it is rare and wonderful, indeed." Said Smaug absurdly pleased. He did not know that Bilbo had already caught a glimpse of his peculiar under-covering, and was now itching for a closer view for reasons of his own. The dragon rolled over. "Look!" he said. "What do you say to that?"

"Dazzlingly marvelous! Perfect! Flawless! Staggering!" exclaimed Bilbo aloud, but what he thought inside was: 'Old fool! Why there is a large patch in the hollow of his left breast as bare as a snail out of its shell!"

After he had seen that Mr. Baggins' one idea was to grab the Arkenstone and get away. He had been very carefully moving ever closer to it the whole time. Now as he came near, it was tinged with a flickering sparkle of many colors at the surface, reflected and splintered from the glow of the dragon. The great jewel shone before his feet with its own inner light, and yet, cut and fashioned by the Dwarves, who had dug it from the heart of the mountain long ago, it took all light that fell upon it and changed it into ten thousand sparks of white radiance shot with glints of the rainbow.

"I am almost tempted to let you take it." said Smaug when he saw the Hobbit bend to reach for it. "If only to see Oakenshield suffer. Watch it destroy him. Watch it corrupt his heart and drive him mad. But I think not. I think our little game ends here. So tell me, thief: how do you choose to die?" asked the dragon as he extended his neck and opened his jaws to snap up the burglar. Bilbo immediately slipped his ring back on and vanished. Smaug's razor teeth snatched only thin air.

"Well, I really must not detain Your Magnificence any longer," he heard the hobbit's voice echo, "or keep you from much needed rest. Dwarves take some catching, I believe, after a long start. And so do burglars!" Bilbo added as a parting shot, as he darted back and fled up to the tunnel.  
It was an unfortunate remark, for the dragon spouted terrific flames after him, and fast though he sped up the slope, he had not got nearly far enough to be comfortable before the ghastly head of Smaug was thrust against the opening behind. Luckily the whole head and jaws could not squeeze in, but the nostrils sent forth fire and vapor to pursue him, and he was nearly overcome, and stumbled blindly on in great pain and fear. He had been feeling rather pleased with the cleverness of his conversation with Smaug, but his mistake at the end shook him into better sense.

"Never laugh at live dragons, Bilbo you fool!" he said to himself, and it became a favorite saying of his later, and passed into proverb. "You aren't nearly through this adventure yet," he added, and that was pretty true as well.


	19. Chapter 19

**Previously:**

_"Well, I really must not detain Your Magnificence any longer," he heard the hobbit's voice echo, "or keep you from much needed rest. Dwarves take some catching, I believe, after a long start. And so do burglars!" Bilbo added as a parting shot, as he darted back and fled up to the tunnel._  
_It was an unfortunate remark, for the dragon spouted terrific flames after him, and fast though he sped up the slope, he had not got nearly far enough to be comfortable before the ghastly head of Smaug was thrust against the opening behind. Luckily the whole head and jaws could not squeeze in, but the nostrils sent forth fire and vapor to pursue him, and he was nearly overcome, and stumbled blindly on in great pain and fear. He had been feeling rather pleased with the cleverness of his conversation with Smaug, but his mistake at the end shook him into better sense._

_"Never laugh at live dragons, Bilbo you fool!" he said to himself, and it became a favorite saying of his later, and passed into proverb. "You aren't nearly through this adventure yet," he added, and that was pretty true as well._

* * *

**Chapter 19: Not at Home**

* * *

In his haste to escape, Bilbo nearly crashed into Thorin, who had braved the tunnel to meet him.

"You're alive!" said Thorin.

"Not for much longer!" said Bilbo.

"Did you find the Arkenstone?"

"The dragon's coming!" cried the hobbit.

"The Arkenstone!" said Thorin sternly. "Did you find it?"

Seeing the look in the Dwarf's eyes, Bilbo hesitated for a moment.

"No, we have to get out." Said the hobbit taking a step to leave, but the Dwarf stopped him by placing his sword in front of him to block the way. "Thorin." Thorin used his sword to push Bilbo back. "Thorin!" The Dwarf kept his sword pointed at the hobbit looking at him threateningly, but then he noticed that the hobbit's eyes were no longer on the blade before him. Bilbo, who could stand no longer after everything he had just been through, stumbled and fell in a faint. It was only then that Thorin became fully aware of what he had been about to do to his little friend, and finally noticed that the hobbit had not escaped entirely unscathed.

The evening had grown late into the night when Thorin came carrying the hobbit back out on to the 'doorstep'. The Dwarves revived him, and doctored his scorches as well as they could; but it was a long time before the hair on the back of his head and heels grew properly again: it had all been singed and frizzled right down to the skin. In the meanwhile his friends did their best to cheer him up; they were eager for his story, especially wanting to know why the dragon had made such an awful noise, and how Bilbo had escaped.  
But the hobbit was worried and uncomfortable, and they had difficulty in getting anything out of him. On thinking things over he was now regretting some of the things he had said to the dragon, and was not eager to repeat them. And any way there was no time for any of that at the moment. Smaug was still to be reckoned with. It does not do to leave a live dragon out of your calculations, if you live near him.

The Dragon's rage had passed beyond description—the sort of rage that is only seen when rich folk that have more than they can enjoy suddenly lose something that they have long had but have never before used or wanted. His fire belched forth, the hall smoked, he shook the mountain-roots. He thrust his head I vain at the little hole, and then coiling his length together, roaring like thunder underground, he sped from his deep lair through its great door, out into the huge passages of the mountain-palace and up towards the Front Gate.  
To hunt the whole mountain till he gad caught the thief and had torn and trampled him was his one thought. He issued from the Gate, the waters rose in fierce whistling steam, and he soared blazing into the air and settled on the mountain-top in a spout of green and scarlet flame. The Dwarves heard the awful rumor of his flight, and they crouched against the walls of the grassy terrace cringing under boulders, hoping somehow to escape the frightful eyes of the hunting dragon.  
There they would have all been killed, if it had not been for Bilbo once again. "Quick! Quick!" he gasped. "The door! The tunnel! It's no good here."

Roused by these words they were just about to creep inside the tunnel when Bifur gave a cry: "My cousins! Bombur and Bofur—we have forgotten them, they are down in the valley!"

"They will be slain, and all our ponies too, and all our stores lost!" moaned the others. "We can do nothing."

"Nonsense!" said Thorin, recovering his dignity. "We cannot leave them. Get inside Mr. Baggins and Balin, and you two Fili and Kili—the dragon shan't have all of us. Now you others, where are the ropes? Be quick!"

Those were perhaps the worst moments they had been through yet the horrible sounds of Smaug's anger were echoing in the stony hollows far above; at any moment he might come blazing down or fly whirling round and find them there, near the cliff's edge hauling madly on the ropes. Up came Bofur, and still all was safe. Up came Bombur, puffing and blowing while the ropes creaked, and still all was safe. Up came some tools and bundles of stores, and then danger was upon them.  
A whirring noise was heard. A red light touched the points of standing rocks. The dragon came.  
They had barely time to fly back to the tunnel, pulling and dragging their bundles, when Smaug came hurtling from the North, licking the mountain-sides with flame, beating his great wings with noise like a roaring wind. His hot breath shriveled the grass before the door, and drove in through the crack they had left and scorched them as they lay hid. Flickering fired leaped up and the black rock-shadows danced. Then darkness fell as he passed again. The ponies screamed in terror, burst their ropes and galloped wildly off. The dragon swooped and turned to pursue them and was gone.

"That'll be the end of our poor beasts!" said Balin. "Nothing can escape Smaug once he sees it. Here we are and here we shall have to stay, unless one fancies tramping the long open miles back to the river with Smaug on the watch!"

It was not a pleasant thought! They crept further down the tunnel, and there they lay and shivered though it was warm and stuffy, until dawn came pale through the crack of the door. Every now and again through the night they could hear the roar of the flying dragon grow and then pass and fade, as he hunted round and round the mountain-sides.  
Smaug guessed from the ponies, and from the traces of the camps he had discovered, that men had indeed come up with the Dwarves at some point from the river and the lake and that they had scaled the mountain-side from the valley where the ponies had been standing; but the door withstood his searching eye, and the little high-walled bay had kept out his fiercest flames. Long he hunted in vain till the dawn chilled his wrath and he went back to his golden couch to sleep—and to gather new strength. He would not forget or forgive the theft, not if a thousand years turned him to smoldering stone, but he could afford to wait. Slow and silent he crept back into his lair and half closed his eyes.  
When morning came the terror of the Dwarves grew less. They realized that dangers of this kind were inevitable when dealing with such a guardian, and that it was no good giving up yet. Nor could they get away just now, as Balin had pointed out. Their ponies were lost or killed, and they would have to wait some time before Smaug relaxed his watch sufficiently for them to dare the long way on foot. Luckily they had saved enough stores to last them still for some time.  
They debated long on what was to be done, but they could think of no way of getting rid of Smaug—which had always been a weak point in their plans, as Bilbo felt inclined to point out. Then as is the nature of folk that are thoroughly perplexed, they began to grumble at the hobbit, blaming him for what had at first so pleased them: for going bravely into Smaug's lair and stirring up his wrath so soon. They also lamented and criticized his decision to leave Hannah behind with the Elves, as surely the apprentice of a wizard, who must have been taught a great many of her master's enchantments and spells, could have been of some use to them in this desperate situation.

"What else do you suppose a burglar is to do?" asked Bilbo angrily. "I was not engaged to kill dragons, that is warrior's work, but to steal treasure. I made the best beginning I could. Did you expect me to trot back with the whole hoard of Thrór on my back? If there is any grumbling to be done, I think I might have a say. You ought to have brought five hundred burglars, not one. I am sure it reflects great credit on your grandfather, but you cannot pretend that ever made the vast extent of his wealth clear to me. I should want hundreds of years to bring it all up,"—the dragon had been quite right about that part—"if I was fifty times as big, and Smaug as tame as a rabbit. And you know perfectly well why Hannah _herself_ decided not to come with us. Shame on you for thinking to make an injured girl brave such danger!"

After that of course the Dwarves begged his pardon. "What then do you propose we do, Mr. Baggins?" asked Thorin.

"I have no idea at the moment—if you mean about removing the treasure, that obviously depends entirely on some new turn of luck and the getting rid of Smaug. Getting rid of dragons is not at all in my line, but 'every worm has his weak spot,' as my father used to say, though I am sure it was not from personal experience, and I believe that I have discovered Smaug's."

"What is it?" cried the Dwarves. "Do get on with your tale!"  
So Bilbo told them all he could remember, and he confessed that he had a nasty feeling that the dragon guessed too much from his riddles added to the camps and ponies. "I am sure he knows we came from Lake-town and had help from there; and I have a horrible feeling that his next move may be in that direction. I wish to goodness I had never said that about Barrel-rider; it would make even a blind rabbit in these parts think of the Lake-men." The old thrush was sitting on the rock near by with his head cocked to one side, listening to all that was said. (They had risked going back out on to the 'doorstep' to get some fresh air.) It shows what an ill temper Bilbo was in: he picked up a stone and threw it at the thrush, which merely fluttered aside and came back.

"Drat the bird!" said Bilbo crossly. "I believe he is listening, and I don't like the look of him."

"Leave him alone!" said Thorin. "The thrushes are good and friendly—this is a very old bird indeed, and is maybe the last left of the ancient breed that used to live about here, tame to the hands of my father and grandfather. They were a long-lived and magical race, and this might even be one of those that were alive then, a couple of hundred years or more ago. The Men of Dale used to have the trick of understanding their language, and used them for messengers to fly to the Men of the Lake and elsewhere."

"Well, he'll have news to take to Lake-town all right, if that is what he is after," said Bilbo; "I only hope there still people left there that trouble with thrush-language so that he can tell them to run."

"Well, well! It cannot be helped, and it is difficult not to slip in talking to a dragon, or so I have always heard." Said Balin, anxious to comfort him. "I think you did very well, if you ask me—you found out one very useful thing at any rate, and got home alive, and that is more than most can say who have had words with the likes of Smaug. It may be a mercy and a blessing yet to know of the bare patch in the old Worm's diamond waistcoat."

That turned the conversation, and they began discussing dragon-slayings historical, dubious, and mythical, and all the various sorts of stabs and jabs and undercuts, and the different arts, devices, and stratagems by which they had been accomplished. The general opinion was that catching a dragon napping was not as easy as it sounded, and the attempt to stick one or prod one asleep was more likely to end in disaster than a bold frontal attack. All the while they talked the thrust listened, till at last when the stars began to peep forth, it silently spread its wings and flew away. And all the while they talked and the shadows lengthened Bilbo became more and more unhappy and his foreboding grew.  
At last he interrupted them. "I am sure we are very unsafe here," he said, "and I don't see the point of sitting here. The dragon has withered all the pleasant green, and anyway the night has come and it is cold. But I feel it in my bones that this place will be attacked again. Smaug knows how I came down to his hall, and you can trust him to guess where the other end of the tunnel is. He will break all this side of the Mountain to bits, if necessary, to stop up our entrance, and if we are smashed with it the better he will like it."

"You are very gloomy, Mr. Baggins!" said Kili. "Why has not Smaug blocked the lower end, then, if he is so eager to keep us out?"

"That's right. He has not, or we would have heard him." said Fili.

"I don't know, I don't know—he could be trying to lure me in again, I suppose, or perhaps because he is waiting till after tonight's hunt, or because he does not want to damage his bedroom if he can help it—but I wish you would not argue." Said Bilbo. "Smaug will be coming out at any minute now, and our only hope is to get well in the tunnel and shut the door."

He seemed so much in earnest that the Dwarves at last did as he said, though they delayed shutting the door—it seemed a desperate plan, for no one knew whether or how they could get it open again from the inside, and the thought of being shut in a place from which the only way out led through the dragon's lair was not one they liked. Also everything seemed quite quiet, both outside and down the tunnel. So for a longish while they sat inside not far down from the half-open door and went on talking.  
The talk turned to the dragon's wicked words about the Dwarves. Bilbo wished he had never heard them, or at least that he could feel quite certain that the Dwarves now were absolutely honest when they declared that they had never thought at all about what would happen after the treasure had been won. But having already had one of his friends point a sword at him over a jewel the hobbit found his confidence somewhat shaken, though the Dwarf seemed to have recovered from the spark of whatever madness had gripped him in that moment. "We knew it would be a desperate venture," said Thorin, "and we know that still; and I still think that when we have won it will be the time enough to think what to do about it. As for your share, Mr. Baggins, I assure you we are more than grateful and shall choose your own fourteenth, as soon as we have anything to divide. I am sorry if you are worried about transport, and I admit the difficulties are great—the lands have not become less wild with the passing of time, rather the reverse—but we will do whatever we can for you, and take our share of the cost when the time comes. Believe me or not as you like!"

From that the talk turned to the great hoard itself and to the things that Thorin and Balin remembered. They wondered if they were still lying there unharmed in the hall below: the spears that were made for the armies of the great King Bladorthin (long since dead), each had a thrice-forged head and their shafts were inlaid with cunning gold, but they were never delivered or paid for; shield made for warriors long dead; the great golden cup of Thrór, two-handed, hammered and carven with birds and flowers whose eyes and petals were of jewels; coats of mail gilded and silvered and impenetrable; the white gems of Lasgalen, which had once belonged to the Elvenking of Mirkwood, that had been crafted into a magnificent necklace that shone like pure starlight (the very one Bilbo had already heard tell of from Hannah); the necklace of Girion, Lord of Dale, made of five hundred emeralds green as grass, which he gave for the arming of his eldest son in a coat of Dwarf-linked rings the like of which had never been made before, for it was wrought of pure silver to the power and strength of triple steel. But fairest of all was the great white gem, which Bilbo had been sent in to retrieve, the Heart of the Mountain, the Arkenstone of Thráin.

"The Arkenstone! The Arkenstone!" murmured Thorin in the dark, half dreaming with his chin upon his knees. "It was a globe with a thousand facets; it shone like silver in the firelight, like water in the sun, like snow under the stars, like rain upon the Moon!"

From his description Bilbo knew the stone that he had found earlier was indeed the one and only Arkenstone, but the enchanted desire of the hoard had fallen from the hobbit. All through their talk he was only half listening to them. He sat nearest to the door with one ear cocked for any beginnings of a sound without, his other was alert for echoes beyond the murmurs of the Dwarves, for any whisper of movement far below.  
Darkness grew deeper and he grew even more uneasy. "Shut the door!" he begged them. "I fear that dragon in my marrow. I like this silence far less than the uproar of last night. Shut the door before it is too late!"  
Something in his voice gave the Dwarves an uncomfortable feeling. Slowly Thorin shook off his dreams and getting up he kicked away the stone that wedged the door. Then they thrust upon it, and it closed with a snap and a clang. No trace of a keyhole was there left on the inside. They were shut in the Mountain!  
And not a moment too soon. They had hardly gone any distance down the tunnel when a blow smote the side of the Mountain like the crash of battering-rams made of forest oaks and swung by giants. The rock boomed, the walls cracked and stones fell from the roof on their heads. What would have happened if the door had still been open I don't like to think. They fled further down the tunnel glad to still be alive, while behind them outside they heard the roar and rumble of Smaug's fury. He was breaking rocks to pieces, smashing wall and cliff with the lashings of his huge tail, till their little lofty camping ground, the scorched grass, the thrush's stone, the snail-covered walls, the narrow ledge, and all disappeared in a jumble of smithereens, and an avalanche of splintered stones fell over the cliff into the valley below.  
Smaug had left his lair in silent stealth, quietly soared into the air, and then floated heavy and slow in the dark like a monstrous crow, down the wind towards the west of the Mountain, in the hopes of catching unawares something or somebody there, and of spying the outlet to the passage which the thief had used. This was the outburst of his wrath when he could find nobody and see nothing, even where he guessed the outlet must actually be.  
After he had let off his rage in this way he felt better and he thought in his heart that he would not be troubled again from that direction. In the meanwhile he had further vengeance to take. "Barrel-rider!" he snorted. "Your feet came from the waterside and up the water without a doubt. I don't know your smell, but if you are not one of those men of the Lake, you had their help. They shall see me and remember who is the real King under the Mountain!"  
He rose in fire and went away south towards the Running River.

In the meanwhile, the Dwarves sat in the darkness, and utter silence fell about them. Little they ate and little they spoke. They could not count the passing time; and they had scarcely dared to move, for the whisper of their voices echoed and rustled in the tunnel. If they dozed, they woke still to darkness and to silence going on unbroken. At last after days and days of waiting, as it seemed, when they were becoming choked and dazed for want of air, they could bear it no longer. They would almost have welcomed sounds from bellows of the dragon's return. In the silence they feared some cunning devilry of his, but they could not sit there forever.  
Thorin spoke: "Let us try the door!" he said. "I must feel the wind on my face soon or die. I think I would rather be smashed by Smaug in the open than suffocate in here!" So several of the Dwarves got up and groped back to the where the door had been. But they found that the upper end of the tunnel had been shattered and blocked with broken rock. Neither key nor the magic it had once obeyed would ever open that door again.

"We are trapped!" they groaned. "This is the end. We shall die here."

But somehow, just when the Dwarves were most despairing, Bilbo felt a strange lightening of the heart, as if a heavy weight had gone from under his waistcoat.

"Come, come!" he said. "'While there's life there's hope!' as my father used to say, and 'Third time pays for all.' I am going _down _the tunnel once again. I have been that way once already, when I knew there was a dragon at the other end, so I will risk a second visit when I am no longer sure. Anyway the only way out is down. And I think this time you had better all come with me."

"Yes." said Thorin, the first to go forward by Bilbo's side. "I will not die like this. Cowering, clawing for breath. We make for the forges."

"He'll see us, sure as death." Said Dwalin.

"Not if we split up." Argued Thorin.

"Thorin, we'll never make it." said Balin.

"Some of us might. Lead him to the forges. We kill the dragon." Thorin Oakenshield said with a desperate determination. "If this is to end in fire, then we will all burn together. Lead on, Master Burglar."

"Now do be careful!" whispered the hobbit, "and as quiet as you can be! There may be no Smaug at the bottom, but then again there may be. Don't let us take an unnecessary risks!"

Down, down they went. The Dwarves could not, of course, compare with the hobbit in real stealth, and they made a great deal of puffing and shuffling which echoes magnified alarmingly; but though every now and again Bilbo in fear stopped and listened, not a sound stirred below. Near the bottom, as well as he could judge, Bilbo slipped on his ring and went ahead. But he did not need it: the darkness was complete, and they were all invisible, ring or no ring. In fact so black was it that the hobbit came to the opening unexpectedly, put hid hand on air, stumbled forward, and rolled headlong into the hall!  
There he lay face downwards on the floor and did not dare to get up, or hardly even to breathe. But nothing moved. There was not a gleam of light—unless, as t seemed to him, when at last he slowly raised his head, there was a pale white glint, above him and far off in the gloom. But certainly it was not a spark of dragon-fire, though the wormstench was heavy in the place, and the taste of vapor was on his tongue.  
At length Mr. Baggins could bear it no longer. "Confound you, Smaug, you worm!" he squeaked aloud. "Stop playing hide-and-seek! Give me a light, and then eat me, if you can catch me!"  
Faint echoes ran round the unseen hall, but there was no answer.  
Bilbo got up, and found that he did not know in what direction to turn.

"Now I wonder what Smaug is playing at." He said. "He is not at home today (or tonight, or whatever it is), I do believe. If Óin and Glóin have not lost their tinder-boxes, perhaps we can make a little light, and have a look round before the luck turns."  
"Light!" he cried. "Can anybody make a light?"

The Dwarves, of course, were very alarmed when Bilbo fell forward down the step with a bump into the hall, and they sat huddled just where he had left them at the end of the tunnel. Which was probably for the best in the end, because they would have trampled the poor little hobbit if they had tried to follow after him without thinking. But having expected to come face to face with the dragon immediately in a race to the forges and a fight to the death, only to find more silence and darkness, they were at a loss as to what to do next and seemed to be losing their nerve.

"Shh! Shh!" they hissed, when they heard his voice: and though that helped the hobbit to find out where they were, it was some time before he could get anything else out of them. But in the end, when Bilbo actually began to stamp on the floor, and screamed out 'light!' at the top of his shrill voice, Thorin gave way, and Óin and Glóin were sent back to their bundles at the top of the tunnel.  
After a while a twinkling gleamed showed them returning, Óin with a small pine torch in his hand, and Glóin with a bundle of others under his arm. Quickly Bilbo trotted to the door and took the torch; but he could not persuade the Dwarves to light the others or to come join him yet. As Thorin carefully explained, Mr. Baggins was still officially their expert burglar and investigator. If he liked to risk a light, that was his affair. They would wait in the tunnel for his report. So they sat near the door and watched.  
They saw the little dark shape of the hobbit start across the floor holding his tiny light aloft. Every now and again, while he was still near enough, they caught a glint and a twinkle as he stumbled on some golden thing. The light grew smaller as he wandered away into the vast hall; then it began to rise dancing into the air. Bilbo was climbing the great mound of treasure. Soon he stood upon the top, and still went on. Then they saw him halt and stoop for a moment; but they did not know the reason.  
It was the Arkenstone, the Heart of the Mountain. Ever as he climbed, the same white gleam had shone before him and drawn his feet towards it, guiding him with the glow of its own inner light. Now as he came near, it was the small wavering light of his torch that was reflected by the gem and splintered and tinged with flickering sparkles of many colors, instead of the dragon's red glow. But it was no less beautiful and no less magnificent.  
Suddenly Bilbo's arm went towards it drawn by its enchantment. His small hand would not close about it, for it was a large and heavy gem; but he lifted it, shut his eyes, and put it in his deepest pocket.  
'Now I am a burglar indeed!' thought he. 'But I suppose I must tell the Dwarves about it—some time. They did say I could pick and choose my own share; and I think I would choose this, if they took all the rest!' All the same he had an uncomfortable feeling that the picking and choosing had not really been meant to include this marvelous gem, and that trouble would yet come of it. But after that little incident with Thorin a few days ago, however brief, he also had an equally uncomfortable feeling that somehow returning the gem to the Dwarf now would not help matters either: especially when he remembered how Smaug had taunted him by hinting of the terrible effect it might have on his friend.  
Now he went on again. Down the other side of the great mound he climbed, and the spark of his torch vanished from the sight of the watching Dwarves. But soon they saw it far away in the distance again. Bilbo was crossing the floor of the hall.  
He went on, until he came to the great doors at the further side, and there a draught of air refreshed him, but it almost puffed out his light. He peeped timidly through, and caught a glimpse of great passages and of the dim beginnings of wide stairs going up and into the gloom. And still there was no sight or sound of Smaug. He was just going to turn and go back, when a black shape swooped at him, and brushed his face. He squeaked and started, stumbled backwards and fell. His torch dropped head downwards and went out!

"Only a bat, I suppose and hope!" he said miserably. "But now what am I to do? Which is East, South, North, or West?"  
"Thorin! Balin! Óin! Glóin! Fili! Kili!" he cried as loud as he could—it seemed a thin little noise in the wide blackness. "The light's gone out! Someone come and find me and help me!" For the moment his courage had failed altogether.

Faintly the Dwarves heard his small cries, though the only word they could catch was 'help!'

"Now what on earth or under it has happened?" said Thorin.

"Is it the dragon?" asked a frightened Ori.

"Certainly not, or he wouldn't go on squeaking." Said Dwalin.

They waited a moment or two, and still there were no dragon-noises, no sound at all in fact but Bilbo's distant voice. "Come, one of you, get another light or two!" Thorin ordered. "It seems we have got to help our burglar."

"It is about our turn to help," said Balin, "and I am quite willing to go. Anyway I expect it is safe for the moment."

Glóin lit several more torches, and then they all crept out, one by one, and went along the wall as hurriedly as they could. It was not long before they met Bilbo himself coming back towards them. His wits had quickly returned as soon as he saw the twinkle of their lights.

"Only a bat and a dropped torch, nothing worse!" he said in answer to their questions. Though they were much relieved, they were inclined to be grumpy at being frightened for nothing; but what would they have said, if he told them that moment of the Arkenstone, I don't know. The mere fleeting glimpses of treasure which they had caught as they went along had rekindled all the fire of heir Dwarvish hearts; and when the heart of a Dwarf, even the most respectable, is wakened by gold and by jewels, he grows suddenly bold, and he may become fierce.  
The Dwarves no longer needed any urging. All were now eager to explore the hall while they had the chance, and willing to believe that, for the present, Smaug was away from home. Each now gripped a lighted torch; and as they gazed, first on side and then on another, they forgot fear and even caution. They spoke aloud and cried out to one another, as they lifted old treasures from the mound or from the wall and held them in the light, caressing and fingering them.  
Fili and Kili were almost in a merry mood, and finding still hanging there many golden harps strung with silver they took them and struck them; and being magical (and also untouched by the dragon, who had small interest in music) they were still in tune. The dark hall was filled with a melody that had long been silent. But most of the Dwarves were more practical; they gathered gems and stuffed their pockets, and let what they could not carry fall back through their fingers with a sigh. Thorin was not least among these; but always he searched from side to side for something which he could not find. It was the Arkenstone; but he spoke of it yet to no one.  
Now the Dwarves took down mail and weapons from walls, and armed themselves. Royal indeed did Thorin look, clad in a coat of gold-plated rings, with a silver-hafted axe in a belt crusted with scarlet stones.

"Mr. Baggins!" he cried. "Here is the first payment of your reward! Cast off your old coat and put on this!"

With that he put on Bilbo a small coat of mail, wrought for some young elf-prince long ago. It was of silver-steel, which the Elves call _mithril_, and with it went a belt a belt of pearls and crystals. A light helm of figured leather, strengthened between with hoops of steel, and studded about the brim with white gems, was set upon the hobbit's head.

'I feel magnificent,' he thought; 'but I expect I look rather absurd. How they would laugh on the Hill at home! Still I wish there was a looking-glass handy!'

All the same Mr. Baggins kept his head more clear of the bewitchment of the hoard than the Dwarves did. Long before the Dwarves were tired of examining the treasures, he became wary of it and sat down on the floor; and he began to wonder nervously what the end of it all would be. 'I would give a good many of these precious goblets,' he thought, 'for a drink of something cheering out of one of Beorn's wooden bowls!' And he felt sure Hannah would have shared this sentiment had she been there with them. He wondered what would happen to her if they did not make it out alive.

"Thorin!" he cried aloud. "What next? We are armed, but what good has any armor ever been against Smaug the Dreadful? This treasure is not yet won back. We are not looking for gold yet, but for a way of escape; and we have tempted luck too long!"

"You speak the truth!" answered Thorin, recovering his wits. "Let us go! I will guide you. Not in a thousand years should I forget this place." Then he hailed the others, and they gathered together, and holding their torches above their heads they passed through the gaping doors, not without many a backward glance of longing.  
Their glittering mail they covered again with their old cloaks and their bright helms with their tattered hoods, and one by one they walked behind Thorin, a line of little lights in the darkness that halted often, listening in fear once more for any rumor of the dragon's coming.  
Though all the old adornments were long moldered or destroyed, and though all was befouled and blasted with the comings and goings of the monster, Thorin knew every passage and every turn. They climbed long stairs, and turned and went down wide echoing ways, and turned again and climbed yet more stairs, and yet more stairs again. These were smooth, cut out of the living rock broad and fair; and up, up, the Dwarves went, and they met no sign of any living thing, only furtive shadows that fled from the approach of their torches fluttering in the draughts.  
The steps were not made, all the same, for hobbit legs, and Bilbo was just feeling that he could go on no longer, when suddenly the roof sprang high and far beyond the reach of their torch-light. A white glimmer could be seen coming through some opening far above, and the air smelt sweeter. Before them light came dimly through great doors, that hung twisted on their hinges and half burnt.

"This is the great chamber of Thrór," said Thorin; "the hall of feasting and of council. Not far off now if the Front Gate."

They passed through the ruined chamber. Tables were rotting there; chairs and benches were lying overturned, charred and decaying. Skulls and bones were upon the floor among flagons and bowls and broken drinking-horns and dust. As they came through yet more doors at the further end, a sound of water fell upon their ears, and the grey light grew suddenly more full.

"There is the birth of the Running River," said Thorin. "From here it hastens to the Gate. Let us follow it!" Out of a dark opening in a wall of rock there issued a boiling water, and it flowed swirling in a narrow channel, carved and made straight and deep by the cunning of ancient hands. Beside it ran a stone-paved road, wide enough for many men abreast. Swiftly along this they ran, and round a wide sweeping turn—and behold! Before them stood the broad light of day. In front there rose a tall arch, still showing the fragments of old carven work within, worn and splintered and blackened though it was. A misty sun sent its pale light between the arms of the Mountain, and beams of gold fell on the pavement at the threshold.  
A whirl of bats frightened from slumber by their smoking torches flurried over them; as they sprang forward their feet slithered on stones rubbed smooth and slimmed by the passing of the dragon. Now before them the water fell noisily outward and foamed down towards the valley. They flung their pale torches to the ground, and stood gazing out with dazzled eyes. They were come to the Front Gate, and were looking out upon Dale.

"Well!" said Bilbo, "I never expected to be looking _out_ of this door. And I never expected to be so pleased to see the sun again, and to feel the wind on my face. But, ow! Thise wind is cold!"

It was. A bitter easterly breeze blew with the threat of oncoming winter. It swirled over and round the arms of the Mountain into the valley, and sighed among the rocks. After their long time in the stewing depths of dragon-haunted caverns, they shivered in the sun.  
Suddenly Bilbo realized that he was not only tired but also very hungry indeed. "It seems to be late morning," he said, "and so I suppose it is more or less breakfast-time—if there is any breakfast to have. But I don't feel Smaug's front doorstep is the safest place for a meal. Do let's go somewhere where we can sit quiet for a bit!"

"Quite right!" said Balin. "And I think I know which way we should go: we ought to make for the old look-out post at the South-West corner of the Mountain."

"How far is that?" asked the hobbit.

"Five hours march, I should think. It will be rough going. The road from the Gate along the left edge of the stream seems all broken up. But look down there! The river loops suddenly east across Dale in front of the ruined town. At that point there was once a bridge, leading to stairs that climbed up the right bank, and so to a road running towards Ravenhill. There is (or was) a path that left the road and climbed up to the post. A hard climb, too, even if the old steps are still there."

"Dear me!" grumbled the hobbit. "More walking and more climbing without breakfast! I wonder how many breakfasts, and other meals, we have missed inside that nasty clockless, timeless hole?"

As a matter of fact two nights and the day between had gone by (and not altogether without food) since the dragon smashed the magic door, but Bilbo had quite lost count, and it might have been one night or a week of nights for all he could tell.

"Come, come!" said Thorin laughing—his spirits had begun to rise again, and he rattled the precious stones in his pockets. "Don't call my place a nasty hole! You wait till it has been cleaned and redecorated!"

"That won't be till Smaug's dead." Said Bilbo glumly. "In the meanwhile where is he? I would give a good breakfast to know. I hope he is not up on the Mountain looking down at us!"

That idea disturbed the Dwarves mightily, and they quickly decided that Bilbo and Balin were right.

"We must move away from here." said Dori. "I feel as if his eyes were on the back of my head."

"It's a cold and lonesome place." Said Bombur. "There may be drink, but I see no sign of food. A dragon would always be hungry in such parts."

"Come on! Come on!" cried the others. "Let us follow Balin's path!"

Under the rocky wall to the right there was no path, so they trudged among the stones on the left side of the river, and the emptiness and desolation soon sobered even Thorin again. The bridge that Balin had spoken of they found long fallen, and most of its stones were now only boulders in the shallow noisy stream; but they forded the water without much difficulty, and found the ancient steps, and climbed the high bank. After going a short way they struck the old road, and before long came to a deep dell sheltered among the rocks; there they rested for a while and had such a breakfast as they could, chiefly _cram_ and water. (If you want to know what _cram_ is, I can only say that I don't know the recipe; but it is biscuitish, keeps good indefinitely, is supposed to be sustaining, and is certainly not entertaining, being in fact very uninteresting except as a chewing exercise. It was made by the Lake-men for long journeys.)  
After that they went on again; and now the road struck westwards and left the river, and the great shoulder of the south-pointing mountain-spur drew ever nearer. At length they reached the hill path. It scrambled steeply up, and they plodded slowly one behind the other, till at last in the late afternoon they came to the top of the ridge and saw the wintry sun going downwards to the West.  
Here they found a flat place without a wall on three sides, but backed to the North by a rocky face in which there was a wide view East and South and West.

"Here," said Balin, "in the old days we used to always keep watchmen, and that door behind leads into a rock-hewn chamber that was made here as a guardroom. There were several places like it round the Mountain. But there seemed small need for watching in the days of our prosperity, and the guards were made over comfortable, perhaps—otherwise we might have had longer warnings of the coming of the dragon, and things might have been different. Still, here we can now lie hid and sheltered for a while, and can see much without being seen."

"Not much use, if we have been seen coming here." Said Dori, who was always looking up towards the Mountain's peak, as if he expected to see Smaug perched there like a bird on a steeple.

"We must take our chance of that," said Thorin. "We can go no further today."

"Hear, hear!" cried Bilbo, and flung himself on the ground.

In the rock-chamber there would have been room for a hundred, and there was a small chamber further in, more removed from the cold outside, it was quite deserted; not even wild animals seemed to have used it in all the days of Smaug's dominion. There they laid their burdens; and some threw themselves down at once and slept, but others sat near the door and discussed their plans. In all their talk they came perpetually back to one thing: where was Smaug? They looked West and there was nothing, and East there was nothing, and in the South there was no sign of the dragon, but there was a gathering of very many birds. At that they gazed and wondered; but they were no nearer understanding it, when the first cold stars came out.


	20. Chapter 20

**Previously:**

_"Here," said Balin, "in the old days we used to always keep watchmen, and that door behind leads into a rock-hewn chamber that was made here as a guardroom. There were several places like it round the Mountain. But there seemed small need for watching in the days of our prosperity, and the guards were made over comfortable, perhaps—otherwise we might have had longer warnings of the coming of the dragon, and things might have been different. Still, here we can now lie hid and sheltered for a while, and can see much without being seen."_

_"Not much use, if we have been seen coming here." Said Dori, who was always looking up towards the Mountain's peak, as if he expected to see Smaug perched there like a bird on a steeple._

_"We must take our chance of that," said Thorin. "We can go no further today."_

_"Hear, hear!" cried Bilbo, and flung himself on the ground._

_In the rock-chamber there would have been room for a hundred, and there was a small chamber further in, more removed from the cold outside, it was quite deserted; not even wild animals seemed to have used it in all the days of Smaug's dominion. There they laid their burdens; and some threw themselves down at once and slept, but others sat near the door and discussed their plans. In all their talk they came perpetually back to one thing: where was Smaug? They looked West and there was nothing, and East there was nothing, and in the South there was no sign of the dragon, but there was a gathering of very many birds. At that they gazed and wondered; but they were no nearer understanding it, when the first cold stars came out._

* * *

**Chapter 20: Fire and Water**

* * *

Now if you wish, like the Dwarves, to hear news of Smaug, you must go back again to the evening when he smashed the door and flew off in a rage, two days before.  
The men of the lake-town Esgaroth were mostly indoors, for the breeze was from the black East and chill, but a few were walking on the quays, and watching, as they were fond of doing, the stars shine out from the smooth patches of the lake as they opened in the sky. From their town the Lonely Mountain was mostly screened by the low hills at the far end of the lake, through a gap in which the Running River came down from the North. Only its high peak could they see in clear weather, and they looked seldom at it, for it was ominous and drear even in the light of morning. Now it was lost and gone, blotted in the dark.  
Suddenly it flickered back into view; a brief glow touched it and faded.

"Look!" said one. "The lights again! Last night the watchmen saw them start and fade from midnight until dawn. Something is happening up there."

"Perhaps the King under the Mountain is forging gold." Said another. "It is long since he went north. It is time the songs began to prove themselves again."

"Which king?" said another with a grim voice. "As like as not it is the marauding fire of the Dragon, the only king under the Mountain we have ever known."

"You are always foreboding gloomy things!" said the others. "Anything from floods to poisoned fish. Think of something cheerful!"

Then suddenly a great light appeared in the low place in the hills and the northern end of the lake turned golden. "The King beneath the Mountain!" they shouted. "His wealth is like the Sun, his silver like a fountain, his rivers golden run! The river is running gold from the Mountain!" they cried, and everywhere windows were opening and feet were hurrying.  
There was once more a tremendous excitement and enthusiasm. But the grim-voiced fellow dashed back into his house, bade his children to ready for disaster, and ran hotfoot to the Master. "The dragon is coming or I am a fool!" he cried. "Cut the bridges! To arms! To arms!"  
Then warning trumpets were suddenly sounded and echoed along the rocky shores. The cheering stopped and the joy turned to dread. So it was that the dragon did not find them quite unprepared.  
Before long, so great was his speed, they could see him as a spark of fire rushing towards them and growing ever huger and more bright, and not the most foolish doubted that the prophecies had gone rather wrong. Still they had a little time. Every vessel in town was filled with water, every warrior was armed, every arrow and dart was ready, and the bridge to the land was thrown down and destroyed, before the roar of Smaug's terrible approach grew loud, and the lake rippled red as fire beneath the awful beating of his wings.  
Amid shrieks and wailing and the shouts of men he came over them, swept towards the bridges and was foiled! The bridge was gone, and his enemies were on an island in deep water—too deep and dark and cool for his liking. If he plunged into it, a vapor and a steam would arise enough to cover all the land with a mist for days; but the lake was mightier than he, it would quench him before he could pass through.  
Roaring he swept back over the town. A hail of dark arrows leaped up and snapped and rattled on his scales and jewels, and their shafts fell back kindled by his breath burning and hissing into the lake. No fireworks you ever imagined equaled the sights that night. At the twanging of the bows and the shrilling of the trumpets the dragon's wrath blazed to its height, till he was blind and mad with it. No one had dared to give battle to him for many an age; nor would they have dared now, if it had had not been for the grim-voiced man (Bard was his name) who ran to and fro cheering on the archers and urging the Master to order them to fight to the last arrow.  
Fire leaped from the dragon's jaws. He circled for a while high in the air above them lighting all the lake; the trees by the shores shone like copper and like blood with leaping shadows of dense black at their feet. Then down he swooped straight through the arrow-storm, reckless in his rage, taking no heed to turn his scaly sides towards his foes, seeking only to set their town ablaze.  
Fire leaped from thatched roofs and wooden beam-ends as he hurtled down and past and round again, though all had been drenched with water before he came. Once more water was flung by a hundred hands wherever a spark appeared. Back swirled the dragon. A sweep of his tail and the roof of the Great House crumbled and smashed down. Flames unquenchable sprang afire and fell; and still no arrow hindered Smaug or hurt him more than a fly from the marshes.

Already men were jumping into the water on every side. Women and children were being laden in boats in the market-pool. Weapons were flung down. There was mourning and weeping, where but a little time ago the old songs of mirth to come had been sung about the Dwarves. Now men cursed their names. The Master himself was turning to his great gilded boat, hoping to row away in the confusion and save himself. Soon all the town would be deserted and burned down to the surface of the lake.  
That was the dragon's hope. They could all get into boats for all he cared. There he could have fine sport hunting them, or they could stop till they starved. Let them try to get to land and he would be ready. Soon he would set all the shoreland woods ablaze and wither every field and pasture. Just now he was enjoying the sport of town-baiting more than he had enjoyed anything for years.  
But there was still a company of archers that held their ground among the burning houses. Their captain was Bard, grim-voiced and grim-faced, whose friends had accused him of prophesying floods and poisoned fish, though they knew his worth and courage. He was a descendant in long line of Girion, Lord of Dale, whose wife and child had escaped done the Running River from the ruin long ago. Now he shot with a great yew bow, till all his arrows but one were spent. The flames were near him. His companions were leaving him. He bent his bow for the last time.  
Suddenly out of the dark something fluttered to his shoulder. He started—but it was only an old thrush. Unafraid it perched by his ear and it brought him news. Marveling he found he could understand its tongue, for he was of the race of Dale.

"Wait! Wait!" it said to him. "The moon is rising. Look for the hollow of the left breast as he flies and turns above you!" And while Bard paused in wonder it told him of tidings up in the Mountains and of all it had heard.  
Then Bard drew his bow-string to his ear. The dragon was circling back, flying low, and as he came the moon rose above the eastern shore and silvered his great wings.

"Arrow!" said the bowman. "Black Arrow! I have saved you to the last. You have never failed me and always I have recovered you. I had you from my father and he from of old. If ever you came from the forges of the true king under the Mountain, go now and speed well!"

The dragon swooped once more lower than ever, and as he turned and dived down his belly glittered white with sparkling fires of gems in the moon—but not in one place. The great bow twanged. The black arrow sped straight from the string, straight for the hollow by the left breast where the wing was flung wide. In it smote and vanished, barb, shaft and feather, so fierce was its flight. With a shriek that deafened men, felled trees and split stone, Smaug shot spouting into the air, turned over and crashed down from on high in ruin.  
Full on the town he fell. His last throes splintered it to sparks and gledes. The lake roared in. a vast steam leaped up, white in the sudden dark under the moon. There was a hiss, a gushing whirl, and then silence. And that was the end of Smaug and Esgaroth, but not of Bard.

The waxing moon rose higher and higher and the wind grew loud and cold. It twisted the white fog into bending pillars and hurrying clouds and drove it off to the West to scatter in tattered shreds over the marshes before Mirkwood. Then the many boats could be seen dotted dark on the surface of the lake, and down the wind came the voices of the people of Esgaroth lamenting their lost town and goods and ruined houses. But they really had much to be thankful for., had they thought of it, though it could hardly be expected that they should just then: three quarters of the people of the town had at least escaped alive; their woods and fields and pastures and cattle and most of their bots remained undamaged; and the dragon was dead. What that meant they had not yet realized.  
They gathered in mournful crowds upon the western shores, shivering in the cold wind, and their first complaints and anger were against the Master, who had left the town too soon, while some were still willing to defend it.

"He may have a good head for business—especially his own business," some murmured, "but he is no good when anything serious happens!" And the praised the courage of Bard and his last mighty shot. "If only he had not been killed," they all said, "we would make him a king. Bard the Dragon-shooter of the line of Girion! Alas that he is lost!"

And in the very midst of their talk, a tall figure stepped from the shadows. He was drenched with water, his black hair hung wet over his face and shoulders, and a fierce light was in his eyes.

"Bard is not lost!" he cried. "He dived from Esgaroth, when the enemy was slain. I am Bard, of the line of Girion; I am slayer of the dragon!"

"King Bard! King Bard!" they shouted while his children, who had been crying and searching desperately for him, ran over to meet him with cries of joy; but the Master ground his chattering teeth.

"Girion was lord of Dale, not king of Esgaroth." He said. "In Lake-town we have always elected masters from among the old and wise, and have not endured the rule of mere fighting men. Let 'King Bard' go back to his own kingdom—Dale is now freed by his own valor, and nothing hinders his return. And any that wish can go with him, if they prefer the cold shores under the shadow of the Mountain to the green shores of the lake. The wise will stay here and hope to rebuild our town, and enjoy again in time its peace and riches."

"We will have King Bard!" the people near at hand shouted in reply. "We have had enough of the old men and the money-counters!" And people further off took up the cry: "Up the Bowman, and down the Money-bags," till the clamor echoed along the shore.

"I am the last man to undervalue Bard the Bowman." Said the Master warily (for Bard now stood close beside him). "He has tonight earned an eminent place in the roll of the benefactors of our town; and he is worthy of many imperishable songs. But why O People?"—and here the Master rose to his feet and spoke very loud and clear—"why do I get all your blame? For what fault am I to be deposed? Who aroused the dragon from his slumber, I might ask? Who obtained of us rich gifts and ample help, and led us to believe that old songs could come true? Who played on our soft hearts and our pleasant fancies? What sort of gold have they sent down the river to reward us? Dragon-fire and ruin! From whom should we claim the recompense of our damage, and aid for our widows and orphans?"

As you see, the Master had not got his position for nothing. The result of his words was that for the moment the people quite forgot their idea of a new king, and turned their angry thoughts towards Thorin and his company. Wild and bitter words were shouted from many sides; and some of those who had before sung the old songs loudest, were now heard as loudly crying that the Dwarves had stirred the dragon up against them deliberately!

"Fools!" said Bard. "Why waste words and wrath on those unhappy creatures? Doubtless they perished first in fire, before Smaug came to us." Then even as he was speaking, the thought came into his heart of the fabled treasure of the Mountain lying without guard or owner, and he suddenly fell silent. He thought of the Master's words, and of Dale rebuilt, and filled with golden bells, if he could but find the men. But then he looked at his children, who were hungry and shivering in the cold. Such a lofty goal would take time, and he needed a way to provide for them now.  
At length he spoke again: "This is no time for angry words, Master, or for considering weighty plans of change. There is work to do. I serve you still—though after a while I may think again on your words and go North with any that will follow me."

Then he strode off with his family to help in the ordering of the camps and in the care of the sick and wounded. But the Master scowled at his back as he went, and remained sitting on the ground. He thought much but said little, unless it was to call loudly for men to bring him fire and food.  
Now everywhere Bard went he found talk running like fire among the people concerning the vast treasure that was now unguarded. Men spoke of the recompense for all their harm that they would soon get from it, and wealth over to spare with which to buy rich things from the South; and it cheered them greatly in their plight. That was well, for the night was bitter and miserable. Shelters could be contrived for a few (the Master had one) and there was little food (even the Master went short). Many took ill of wet and cold and sorrow that night, and afterwards died, who had escaped uninjured from the ruin of the town; and in the days that followed there was much sickness and great hunger.  
Meanwhile Bard took the lead, and ordered things as he wished, though always in the Master's name, and he had a hard task to govern the people and direct the preparations for their protection and housing. Probably most of them would have perished in the winter that now hurried after autumn, if help had not been to hand. But help came swiftly; for Bard at once had speedy messengers sent up the river to the Forest to ask the aid of the King of the Elves of the Wood, and these messengers had found a host already on the move, although it was then only the third day after the fall of Smaug.  
The Elvenking had received news from his own messengers and from the birds that loved his folk, and already he knew much of what had happened. Very great indeed was the commotion among all things with wings that dwelt on the borders of the Desolation of the Dragon. The air was filled with circling flocks, and their swift-flying messengers flew here and there across the sky. Above the borders of the Forest there was whistling, crying and piping. Far over Mirkwood tidings spread: "Smaug is dead!" Leaves rustled and startled ears were lifted. Even before the Elvenking rode forth the news had passed west right to the pinewoods of the Misty Mountains; Beorn had heard it in his wooden house, and the goblins and orcs were at council in their caves.

"That will be the last we shall hear of Thorin Oakenshield, I fear," said the Elvenking. "He would have done better to have remained my guest. It is an ill wind, all the same," he added, "that blows no one any good." For he too had not forgotten the vast wealth of Thrór, and he did not doubt that many would now seek to claim it, and he did not cherish the thought of the precious gems which he longed to recover falling into the hands of another.  
Hannah of course had been properly devastated when the news of her friends' suspected deaths reached her ears but knew that this not yet the time for tears. If what they said was true, and both the Dragon and the Dwarves had fallen, then a terrible power vacuum had just opened up, one that many (including the Enemy) would be rushing to fill, so she said and did nothing to stop the Elves when they began preparations to go forth and reclaim their lost jewels. Rather, she did just the opposite.

"Please, take me with you." She begged of them. "It's not that I don't understand what they were up against, but I don't want to believe it. I must see for myself. I refuse to give them up for dead until I do." And to the surprise and amazement of Hannah and Legolas (who taking pity upon his little friend had helped to make the request on her behalf) the Elvenking agreed quite easily.  
So it was that Bard's messengers found them now marching with many spearmen and bowmen; and crows were gathered thick, above him, above him, for they thought that war was awakening again, such as had not been in those parts for a long age.  
But the king, when he received the prayers of Bard, had pity, for despite his suspicious and aloof demeanor he was the lord of a good and kindly people; so turning his march, which had at first been direct towards the Mountain, he hastened now down the river to the Long Lake. He had not boats or rafts enough for his host, and they were forced to go the slower way by foot; but great store of goods he sent ahead by water. Still Elves are lightfooted, and though they were not in these days much used to the marches and the treacherous lands between the Forest and the Lake, their going was swift. Only five days after the death of the dragon they came upon the shores and looked on the ruins of the town. Their welcome was good, as may be expected, and the men and their Master were ready to make any bargain for the future in return for the Elvenking's aid.

"My Lord Thranduil, we did not look to see you here." Said the Master, who made an effort to come personally to greet the Elvenking upon his arrival, and raced over to ingratiate himself with the powerful Elf while Bard made his way over. They had not expected the king himself to come.

"You have saved us. I do not know how to thank you." Said the bowman gravely with a deep bow.

"Your gratitude is misplaced." Thranduil informed the men coolly. "I did not come solely on your behalf. I came to reclaim something of mine. Within the Mountain lies the heirlooms of my people. I march with the intention to reclaim them."

"We are allies in this! My people also have a claim upon the riches in that mountain." Said the Master.

Their plans were soon made. With the women and the children, the old and the unfit, the Master remained behind; and with him were some men of crafts and many skilled Elves; and they busied themselves felling trees, and collecting the timber sent down from the Forest. Then they set about raising many huts by the shore against the oncoming winter; and also under the Master's direction they began the planning of a new town, designed more fair and large even than before, but not in the same place. They removed northward higher up the shore; for ever after they had a dread of the water where the dragon lay. He would never again return to his golden bed, but was stretched cold as stone, twisted upon the floor of the shallows. There for ages his huge bones could be seen in calm weather amid the ruined piles of the old town. But few dared to cross the cursed spot, and none dared to dive into the shivering water or recover the precious stones that fell from his rotting carcass.  
But Bard and all the men of arms who were still able, and the most of the Elvenking's array, got ready to march north to the Mountain. It was thus that in eleven days from the ruin of the town the head of their host passed the rock gates at the end of the lake and came into the desolate lands.


	21. Chapter 21

**Previously:**

_Their plans were soon made. With the women and the children, the old and the unfit, the Master remained behind; and with him were some men of crafts and many skilled Elves; and they busied themselves felling trees, and collecting the timber sent down from the Forest. Then they set about raising many huts by the shore against the oncoming winter; and also under the Master's direction they began the planning of a new town, designed more fair and large even than before, but not in the same place. They removed northward higher up the shore; for ever after they had a dread of the water where the dragon lay. He would never again return to his golden bed, but was stretched cold as stone, twisted upon the floor of the shallows. There for ages his huge bones could be seen in calm weather amid the ruined piles of the old town. But few dared to cross the cursed spot, and none dared to dive into the shivering water or recover the precious stones that fell from his rotting carcass._  
_But Bard and all the men of arms who were still able, and the most of the Elvenking's array, got ready to march north to the Mountain. It was thus that in eleven days from the ruin of the town the head of their host passed the rock gates at the end of the lake and came into the desolate lands._

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**Chapter 21: The Gathering of the Clouds**

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Now we will return to Bilbo and the Dwarves. All night one of them had watched, but when morning came they had not heard or seen any sign of danger. But ever more thickly the birds were gathering. Their companies came flying from the South; and the crows that still lived about the Mountain were wheeling and crying unceasingly above.

"Something strange is happening." Said Thorin. "The time has gone for the autumn wanderings; and these are birds that dwell always in the land; there are starlings and flocks of finches; and far off there are many carrion birds as if a battle were afoot!"

Suddenly Bilbo pointed: "There is that old thrush again!" he cried. "He seems to have escaped, when Smaug smashed the mountain-side, but I don't suppose the snails have!"

Sure enough the old thrush was there, and as Bilbo pointed, he flew towards them and perched on a stone near by. Then he fluttered his wings and sang; then he cocked his head to one side, as if to listen; and again he sang, and again he listened.

"I believe he is trying to tell us something," said Balin; "but I cannot follow the speech of such birds, it is very quick and difficult. Can you make it out Bilbo?"

"Not very well," said the hobbit (as a matter of fact, he could make nothing of it all); "but the old fellow seems very excited."

"I only wish he was a raven!" said Balin.

"I thought you did not like them! You seemed very shy of them, when we came this way before."

"Those were crows! And nasty suspicious-looking creatures at that, and rude as well. You must have heard the ugly names they were calling after us. But the ravens are different. There used to be a great friendship between them and the people of Thrór; and they often brought us secret news, and were rewarded with such bright things as they coveted to hide in their dwellings.  
"They lived many a long year, and their memories are long, and they hand on their wisdom to their children. I knew many among the ravens of the rocks when I was a dwarf-lad. This very height was once named Ravenhill, because there was a wise and famous pair, old Carc and his wife, that lived here above the guard-chamber. But I don't suppose that any of the ancient breed linger here now."

No sooner had he finished speaking than the old thrush gave a loud call, and immediately flew away.

"We may not understand him, but that old bird understands us, I am sure." Said Balin. "Keep watch now, and see what happens!"

Before long there was a fluttering of wings, and back came the thrush; and with him came a most decrepit old bird. He was getting blind, he could hardly fly, and the top of his head was bald. He was an aged raven of great size. He alighted stiffly on the ground before them, slowly flapped his wings, and bobbed towards Thorin.

"O Thorin son of Thráin, and Balin son of Fundin," he croaked (and Bilbo could understand what he said, for he used ordinary language and not bird-speech). "I am Roäc son of Carc. Carc is dead, but he was well known to you once. It is a hundred years and three and fifty since I came out of the egg, but I do not forget what my father told me. Now I am the chief of the great ravens of the Mountain. We are few, but we remember still the king that was of old. Most of my people are abroad, for there are great tidings in the South—some are tidings of joy to you, and some you will not think so good.  
"Behold! The birds are gathering back again to the Mountain and to Dale from South and East and West, for word had gone out that Smaug is dead!"

"Dead! Dead?" shouted the Dwarves. "Dead! Then we have been in needless fear—and the treasure is ours!" They all sprang up and began to caper about for joy.

"Yes, dead." Said Roäc. "The thrush, may his feathers never fall, saw him die, and we may trust his words. He saw him fall in battle with the men of Esgaroth on the third night back from now at the rising of the moon."

It was some time before Thorin could bring the Dwarves to be silent and listen to the raven's news. At length when he had told all the tale of the battle he went on:

"So much for joy, Thorin Oakenshield. You may go back to your halls in safety; all the treasure is yours—for the moment. But many are gathering hither beside the birds. The news of the death of the guardian has already gone far and wide, and the legend of the wealth of Thrór has not lost in the telling during many years; many are eager for a share of the spoil. Already a host of the Elves is on the way, and carrion birds are with them hoping for battle and slaughter. By the lake men murmur that their sorrows are due to the Dwarves; for they are homeless and many have died, and Smaug has destroyed their town. They too think to find amends from your treasure, whether you are alive or dead.  
"Your own wisdom must decide of course, but thirteen is a small remnant of the great folk of Durin that once dwelt here, and now are scattered far. If you will listen to my counsel, you will not trust the Master of the Lake-men, but rather him that shot the dragon with his bow. Bard is he, of the race of Dale, of the line of Girion; he is grim but true. We would see peace once more among Dwarves and Men and Elves after the long desolation; but it may cost you dear in gold. I have spoken."

Then Thorin burst forth in anger: "Our thanks, Roäc Carc's son. You and your people shall not be forgotten. But none of our gold shall thieves take or the violent carry off while we are alive. If you would earn our thanks still more, bring us news of any that draw near. Also I would beg of you, if any of you are still young and strong of wing, that you send messengers to our kin in the mountains of the North, both west from here and east, and tell them of our plight. But go specially to my cousin Dáin in the Iron Hills, for he has many people well-armed, and dwells nearest to this place. Bid him hasten!"

"I will not say if this council be good or bad," croaked Roäc; "but I will do what can be done." Then off he slowly flew." Back to the Mountain!" cried Thorin. "We have little time to lose."

"And little food to use!" cried Bilbo, always practical on such points. In any case he felt that the adventure was, properly speaking, over with the death of the dragon—in which he was much mistaken—and he would have given most of his share of the profits for the peaceful winding up of these affairs.

"Back to the Mountain!" cried the Dwarves as if they had not heard him; so back he had to go with them.

As you have heard some of the events already, you will see that the Dwarves still had some days before them. They explored the caverns once more, and found, as they expected, that only the Front Gate remained open; all other gates (except, of course, the small secret door) had long ago been broken and blocked by Smaug, and no sign of them remained. So now they began to labor hard in fortifying the main entrance, and in remaking the road that led from it. tools were to be found in plenty that the miners and quarries of old had used; and at such work the Dwarves were very skilled.  
As they worked the ravens brought them constant tidings. In this way they learned that the Elvenking had turned aside to the Lake, and they still had breathing space. Better still, they heard that three of their ponies had escaped and were wandering wild far down the banks of the Running Rover, not far from where the rest of their stores had been left. So while the others went on with their work, Fili and Kili were sent, guided by a raven, to find the ponies and bring back all they could.  
They were four days gone, and by that time they knew that the joined armies of Lake-men and the Elves were hurrying towards the Mountain. But now their hopes were higher; for they had food for some weeks with care—chiefly _cram_, of course, and they were very tired of it; but _cram_ is much better than nothing—and already the gate was blocked with a wall of squared stones laid dry, but very thick and high across the opening. There were holes in the wall through which they could see (or shoot) but no entrance. They climbed in or out with ladders, and hauled stuff up with ropes. For the issuing of the stream they had contrived a small low arch under the new wall; but near the entrance they had so altered the narrow bed that a wide pool stretched from the mountain-wall to the head of the fall over which the stream went towards Dale. Approach to the Gate was now only possible, without swimming, along a narrow ledge of the cliff, to the right as one looked outwards from the wall. The ponies they had brought only to the head of the steps above the old bridge, and unloading them had bidden them return to their masters and sent them back riderless to the South.

There came a night when suddenly there were many lights as of fires and torches away south in Dale before them.

"They have come!" called Balin. "And their camp is very great. They must have come into the valley under the cover of dusk along both banks of the river."

Indeed it was just as Balin guessed. The host of Elves and Lake-men had come upon Dale in the waning daylight.

"Is something the matter?" Hannah asked Bard when she caught him staring up at her. She was riding with Legolas on his horse, and the grim-faced bowman had been marching alongside them for some time.

"Forgive me, I did not mean to stare. But I couldn't help but wonder why you are here." Said Bard. He knew she was not from Lake-town, and he found it strange for a lone girl to be in the company of Elves, and wondered why they had brought her along. "I have a daughter your age, so I cannot help but be concerned. Would it not have been better for you to remain behind with the other women and children?"

"I appreciate your concern," said Hannah, "but this is something I must do. Those Dwarves, and the hobbit traveling with them, were friends of mine, and I cannot give them up for dead so easily. I am holding out hope that we will not find Erebor as empty as expected."

"You need not worry. No harm shall come to her so long as she remains under my charge." Added Legolas. His father had allowed Hannah to come along provided she remained always within their sight and did not try to run away. The King had made the prince responsible for keeping watch over her for his part in advocating for the girl's freedom.

"Even so this venture could prove more dangerous than planned. We do not know who else may be marching on the Mountain." Said Bard grimly.

"Yes, I've no doubt you will prove right about that," said Hannah, "but I trust Legolas. And, though I've enjoyed a very peaceful two years, I'm used to being in the thick of things. I am not as helpless as I appear. And I have some idea as to what sort of foes we may have to face before the end."

"What is it you know?" asked Bard. She spoke with such conviction that he found it hard to dismiss her words.

"Nothing for certain. It is only what I fear may come."

"There is one thing you need not fear." Said Thranduil, who had overheard much of the conversation, riding just ahead of them on a great deer. "It would appear your wish has been granted: the Company of Thorin Oakenshield has survived." They came to a halt and followed the Elvenking's piercing gaze up to the Mountain. In the fading light they could see that the braziers of Erebor, long left cold and dark, had been lit and now burned brightly in the dim distance.  
All were amazed to discover that the Dwarves, against all odds and all hope, might have somehow managed to survive the dragon after all. None were more relieved than Hannah, whose smile lit up her whole face with the radiance of a small sun, and she let out a joyful cheer and allowed herself to dare hope that all fourteen of her friends could still yet be alive and well. But not everyone was so eager to find the Mountain occupied. There were many who still coveted and desired the treasure that lay within, and not a few began to mutter and grumble among themselves.

"I shouldn't worry." Said Bard in an attempt to calm them. "There's gold enough in that mountain for all." This seemed to appease the men a little, but Hannah noticed there was still a grim and guarded expression on the Elvenking's fair face. He did not share the bowman's optimism when it came to the generosity of Dwarves.  
They decided to make camp there and find what shelter they could in the ruined city, and a great many fires were lit; and it was decided that a small scouting party would be sent out at first light. Hannah had of course wished to go with them at once so that she might speak with Bilbo and the Dwarves and see them with her own eyes, but this the Elvenking would not allow, and he forbid her from straying too far from the camp. It was heavily implied that if she did not obey, then he would not hesitate to tighten the long leash on which they had let her out. So for the time being Hannah had to be content with the knowledge that at least some of her friends had indeed survived and instead busied herself helping about the camp. That knowledge, however vague, seemed to have given her some peace of mind, for after supper she slipped into a more restful sleep than she had had for days since the news of the slaying of the dragon and their supposed deaths had first reached her ears.

That night the Dwarves slept little. The morning was still pale when they saw a company approaching. From behind their wall they watched them come up to the valley's head and climb slowly up. Before long they could see that both men of the lake armed as if for war and elvish bowmen were among them; and very great was their surprise to see the pool before them and the Gate blocked with a wall of new-hewn stone.  
As they stood pointing and speaking to one another Thorin hailed them: "Who are you," he called in a very loud voice, "that come as if in war to the gates of Thorin son of Thráin, King under the Mountain, and what do you desire?"  
But they answered nothing. Some turned swiftly back, and others after gazing for a while at the Gate and its defenses soon followed them.  
That day the camp remained in Dale. The valley and rocks echoed then with voices and with song, as they had not done for many a day. There was the sound, too, of elven-harps and of sweet music; and as it echoed up towards them it seemed that the chill of the air was warmed, and they caught faintly the fragrance of woodland flowers blossoming in spring.  
Then Bilbo longed to escape from the dark fortress and to go down and join in the mirth and feasting by the fires. Some of the young Dwarves were moved in their hearts, too, and they muttered that they wished things had fallen out otherwise and that they might welcome such folk as friends; but Thorin scowled.  
Then the Dwarves themselves brought forth harps and instruments regained from the hoard, and made music to soften his mood; but their song was not as Elvish song, and was much like the song they had sung long before in Bilbo's little hobbit-hole.

_Under the Mountain dark and tall  
The King has come unto his hall!  
His foe is dead, the Worm of Dread,  
And ever so his foes shall fall._

_The sword is sharp, the spear is long,  
The arrow swift, the Gate is strong;  
The heart is bold that looks on gold;  
The dwarves no more shall suffer wrong._

_The dwarves of yore made mightly spells,  
While hammers fell like ringing bells  
In places deep, where dark things sleep,  
In hollow halls beneath the fells._

_On silver necklaces they strung  
The light of stars, on crowns they hung  
The dragon-fire, from twisted wire  
The melody of harps they wrung._

_The mountain throne once more is freed!  
O! wandering folk, the summons heed!  
Come haste! Come haste! across the waste!  
The king of friend and kin has need._

_Now call we over mountains cold,  
'Come back unto the caverns old'!  
Here at the Gates the king awaits,  
His hands are rich with gems and gold._

_The king is come unto his hall  
Under the Mountain dark and tall.  
The Worm of Dread is slain and dead,  
And ever so our foes shall fall!_

This song appeared to please Thorin, and he smiled again and grew merry; and he began reckoning the distance to the Iron Hills and how long it would be before Dáin could reach the Lonely Mountain, if he had set out as soon as the message reached him. But Bilbo's heart fell, both at the song and the talk: they sounded much too warlike.

The next morning Hannah found herself being woken by the sound of raised voices, and venturing out into the main part of the king and the prince's tent, she found them engaged in a heated discussion with Bard.

"You will go to war over a handful of gems?" asked the bowmen grimly.

"The heirlooms of my people are not lightly forsaken." answered Thranduil coldly. Hannah's eyes widened upon hearing this, and she cast a worried glance at Legolas, who stood silently by his father's side. The look in the eyes of the prince warned her not to interfere. But she could not remain idle with talk of war brewing.

"Wait! Please wait! There is no need for war." she said earnestly stepping forward. "Let me speak with Thorin. I think your claims would be heard better if delivered and backed by a friendly face. Let me at least attempt to negotiate with him."

"Very well, and I shall go with you." Said Bard, who was of the same mind as Hannah.

"You would try to reason with the Dwarf?" said Thranduil.

"To avoid war? Yes." answered Bard grimly.

Later that day a company of spearmen was seen crossing the river and coming up the valley. They bore with them the green banner of the Elvenking and the blue banner of the Lake, and they advanced until they stood right before the wall at the Gate.  
Again Thorin hailed them in a loud voice: "Who are you that come armed for war to the gates of Thorin son of Thráin, King under the Mountain?" This time he was answered.  
A tall man stood forward, dark of hair and grim of face, and he cried: "Hail Thorin! Why do you fence yourself like a robber in his hold? We are not yet foes, and we rejoice that you are alive beyond our hope. We came expecting to find none living here; yet now that we are met there is a matter for a parley and a council."

"Who are you, and of what would you parley?"

"I am Bard, and by my hand was the dragon slain and your treasure delivered. Is that not a matter that concerns you? Moreover I am by right descent the heir of Girion of Dale, and in your hoard is mingled much of the wealth of his halls and town, which of old Smaug stole. Is not that a matter of which we may speak? Further in this last battle Smaug destroyed the dwellings of the men of Esgaroth, and I am yet the servant of their Master. I would speak for him and ask whether you have no thought for the sorrow and misery of his people. They aided you in your distress, and in recompense you have thus far bought ruin only, though doubtless undersigned."

Now these were fair words and true, if proudly and grimly spoken; and Bilbo thought that Thorin would at once admit what justice was in them. He did not, of course expect that anyone would remember that it was he who discovered all by himself the dragon's weak spot; and that was just as well, for no one ever did. But also he did not reckon with the power that gold has upon which a dragon has long brooded, nor with Dwarvish hearts. Long hours in the past days Thorin had spent in the treasury, and the lust of it was heavy on him. Though he had hunted chiefly for the Arkenstone, yet he had an eye for many another wonderful thing that was lying there, about which were wound old memories and the labors and sorrows of his race.

"You put your worst cause last and in the chief place." Thorin answered. "To the treasure of my people no man has a claim, because Smaug who stole it from us also robbed him of life or home. The treasure was not his that his evil deeds should be amended with a share of it. The price of the goods and the assistance that we received of the Lake-men we will fairly pay—in due time. But _nothing_ will we give, not even a loaf's worth, under threat of force. While an armed host lies before our doors, we look on you as foes and thieves.  
"It is in my mind to ask what share of their inheritance you would have paid to our kindred, had you found the hoard unguarded and us slain."

"A just question." Said Hannah, lowering her hood as she stepped forth. "But you are not dead, and we are not robbers." In their great surprise and delight to see her again well and unharmed many of the Dwarves and Bilbo gave a cheer and greeted the girl warmly and expressed relief to find her safe, a sentiment which she heartily returned upon finding all fourteen of them alive and (relatively) unharmed. But Thorin seemed suspicious and demanded to know how she had convinced the Elves to let her roam freely.

"Would you believe I simply asked them nicely?" said Hannah with the hint of a rueful smile before adopting a more serious mean. "But there are matters of far graver concern that must still be addressed, O King under the Mountain. It is true the fault for the destruction of Lake-town lies with the dragon, but the wealthy may have pity beyond right on the needy that befriended them when they were in want. And you know only too well what it is like to have your home taken from you. Will you not take pity on them?"

"No one took pity on us when _we_ lost our home to the dragon." Said Thorin sternly.

"But don't you wish they had?" implored Hannah with concern. At this the expressions of many of the Dwarves softened, but not so for Thorin. Something was wrong, she could tell from the look in his eyes. "Please, take heed of their claims." She begged. "I'm sure you have more than enough gold to spare, and they are not asking for much. The men of the Lake only wish for a small fraction of your vast wealth, just enough to rebuild what they have lost. And the Elves wish only for the return of the gems of Lasgalen, which were theirs to begin with. A little bit of gold and one necklace seems to me a small price to pay to avoid a needless fight."

"I will not parley, as I have said, with armed men at my gate. Nor at all with the people of the Elvenking, whom I remember with small kindness. In this debate they have no place." Said Thorin grimly. "But you, Hannah, are welcome to join us. We have not forgotten your sacrifice, which allowed our timely escape from the Elvenking's dungeon. Come inside, and I shall bestow upon you a necklace fit for a princess."

"I would rather wear a wreath of flowers gathered in peace than any jewels bought and paid for with the price of blood." Answered Hannah sadly, taking a step back. "Long will I tarry before I go to war for gold."

"Then tarry not here!" burst Thorin in anger, feeling as though she had chosen to betray him by siding with the Elves, though she meant no such thing. "Be gone now ere our arrows fly! And if you would speak to me again, first dismiss the Elvish host to the woods where it belongs, and then return, laying down your arms before you approach the threshold."

"The Elvenking is my friend, and he has succored the people of the Lake in their need, though they had no claim but friendship on him." said Bard. "We will give you time to repent your words. Gather your wisdom ere we return!" Then they departed and went back to the camp.  
Thranduil and Legolas knew from the looks on Hannah and Bard's faces what sort of answer they must have received for their trouble even before the bowman spoke.

"He will give us nothing." Said Bard grimly.

"Such a pity." Said the Elvenking, unsurprised. "But still you tried."

"I do not understand. Why? Why would he risk war?" asked Bard.

"I don't know." said Hannah worriedly. Thorin may be painfully stubborn, but he was not unreasonable. "Something is wrong. He was not himself."

"It is fruitless to reason with them. They understand only one thing." Said the Elvenking as he drew his sword and looked at it. The sharp blade gleamed with a pale and cold light under the winter sun. Legolas frowned with concern when Hannah visibly paled at the implied threat.

"But surely there is no need for that!" she said anxiously. "We have them overwhelmingly outnumbered and outmatched. Their supplies are limited, but that is not true in your case. Can we not try to wait them out first? Please think carefully. Do not make Thorin's mistake. There are many different kinds of treasure, the most precious of which do not glitter. Choose what it is you want to protect wisely!" The others stood silent while the Elvenking looked hard at her, and considered the wisdom in her words.

"She is right, Father." Said Legolas at length. "Time is on our side, not theirs. Even if the Dwarves refuse to change their minds and see reason, we need only wait for their supplies to run out, and then hunger and desperation should decide the matter for them. There would be no need for bloodshed."

This the Elvenking and Bard both found a reasonable and preferable option to open war and bloody battle, and it was agreed that this would be their course should they receive an unfavorable response from the Dwarves.

Ere many hours were past, the banner-bearers returned to the Mountain, and trumpeters stood forth and blew a blast:

"In the name of Esgaroth and the Forest," one cried, "we speak unto Thorin Train's son Oakenshield, calling himself King under the Mountain, and we bid him consider well the claims that have been urged, or be declared our foe. At least he shall deliver one twelfth portion of the treasure unto Bard, as the dragon-slayer, and as the heir of Girion. From that portion Bard will himself contribute to the aid of Esgaroth; but if Thorin would have the friendship and honor of the lands about, as his sires had of old, then he will give somewhat of his own for the comfort of the Men of the Lake, and return to the Elves of the Wood the gems of Lasgalen."

Then Thorin seized a bow of horn and shot an arrow at the speaker. It smote into his shield and stuck there quivering.

"Since such is your answer," he called in return, "I declare the Mountain besieged. You shall not depart from it, until you call on your side for a truce and a parley. We will bear no weapons against you, but we leave you to your gold. You may eat that, if you will!"

With that the messengers departed swiftly, and the Dwarves were left to consider their case. So grim had Thorin become, that even if they had wished, the others would not have dared to find fault with him; but indeed most of them seemed to share his mind—except perhaps old fat Bombur and Fili and Kili. Bilbo, of course, disapproved of the whole turn of affairs. He had by now had more than enough of the Mountain, and being besieged inside it was not at all to his taste. He longed to join Hannah in the valley.

"The whole place still stinks of dragon," he grumbled to himself, "and it makes me sick. And _cram_ is beginning simply to stick in my throat."


	22. Chapter 22

**Author's note:  
**Hi, just wanted to let everyone know I've also joined . I have a lot of the same stories from this account on there, but I'm also working on some original stories that I plan on publishing there. In case you're curious and want to check it out, I'm putting a link to the site on my profile.

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**Previously:**

_Ere many hours were past, the banner-bearers returned to the Mountain, and trumpeters stood forth and blew a blast:_

_"In the name of Esgaroth and the Forest," one cried, "we speak unto Thorin Train's son Oakenshield, calling himself King under the Mountain, and we bid him consider well the claims that have been urged, or be declared our foe. At least he shall deliver one twelfth portion of the treasure unto Bard, as the dragon-slayer, and as the heir of Girion. From that portion Bard will himself contribute to the aid of Esgaroth; but if Thorin would have the friendship and honor of the lands about, as his sires had of old, then he will give somewhat of his own for the comfort of the Men of the Lake, and return to the Elves of the Wood the gems of Lasgalen."_

_Then Thorin seized a bow of horn and shot an arrow at the speaker. It smote into his shield and stuck there quivering._

_"Since such is your answer," he called in return, "I declare the Mountain besieged. You shall not depart from it, until you call on your side for a truce and a parley. We will bear no weapons against you, but we leave you to your gold. You may eat that, if you will!"_

_With that the messengers departed swiftly, and the Dwarves were left to consider their case. So grim had Thorin become, that even if they had wished, the others would not have dared to find fault with him; but indeed most of them seemed to share his mind—except perhaps old fat Bombur and Fili and Kili. Bilbo, of course, disapproved of the whole turn of affairs. He had by now had more than enough of the Mountain, and being besieged inside it was not at all to his taste. He longed to join Hannah in the valley._

_"The whole place still stinks of dragon," he grumbled to himself, "and it makes me sick. And cram is beginning simply to stick in my throat."_

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**Chapter 22: The Building Storm  
**

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Now the days passed slowly and wearily. Many of the Dwarves spent their time piling and ordering the treasure; and now Thorin spoke of the Arkenstone of Thrór, and bade them eagerly to look for it in every corner.

"For the Arkenstone of my grandfather," he said, "is worth more than a river of gold in itself, and to me it is beyond price. That stone of all the treasure I name unto myself, and I will be avenged on anyone who finds it and withholds it."

Bilbo heard these words and he grew afraid, wondering what would happen, if the stone was found—wrapped in an old bundle of tattered oddments that he used as a pillow. Thorin grew more suspicious every day the stone went unfound, and had even begun to have doubts about the loyalty of his own kin. All the same Bilbo did not speak of it, for as the weariness of the days grew heavier, the beginnings of a plan had come into his little head.

In Dale Hannah watched grimly while her hosts took advantage of the siege to further their preparations for war. The Lake-men had relieved the old armories of their contents, and the Elves were teaching the men how to fight, for many of them were fishermen by trade and knew little of weapons. Before she had often been in the company of Legolas and Bard, but they were now more often than not busy carrying out tasks among their people. And always she could feel a pair or two of eyes upon her watching her every move to make sure she did not try to run or conspire with the Dwarves. Hannah began to feel rather lonely and to wish that Gandalf were there to help her and to give her advice.  
Things had gone on like this for some time, when their camp received an unexpected and most welcome visitor.

"Let me through! Make way!" shouted a voice that was very familiar to Hannah's ears and had been much missed. She ran out and saw the wizard riding through the ruined streets.

"Gandalf!" she cried out in surprise and relief, overjoyed to see her long absent mentor again.

"Hannah!" said the wizard, looking equally surprised to see her among the men and the Elves. He immediately brought his horse to a stop and dismounted. "What are you doing here?" he asked with no small amount of concern. "Who is in charge?"

"Who is asking?" said Bard, approaching them. He had heard Hannah's raised voice and had come to see what might have alarmed her. Hannah quickly introduced the wizard and the bowman to each other, and did her best to summarize the current state of affairs for her mentor as they walked him over to the Elvenking's tent. There they met with Thranduil and Legolas, who were surprised to learn the mentor Hannah had spoken of was none other than a wizard, and one known to them at that. However the Elvenking felt this newfound knowledge of the strange girl's mysterious background did help to somewhat explain some of her eccentricities and answered more than just a few of the questions that had so far remained unanswered.

"You must set aside your petty grievances with the Dwarves." Said Gandalf sternly. "War is coming. The cesspits of Dol Guldur have been emptied. You are all in mortal danger."

"What are you talking about?" asked Bard while Legolas furrowed his brow and glanced questioningly at Hannah. Was this what she had meant went she told them that there was more to the Dwarves' quest than they knew?

"I can see you know nothing of wizards. They are like winter thunder on a wild wind rolling in from a distance, breaking hard in alarm. But sometimes a storm is just a storm." Said Thranduil coolly with an air of indifference.

"Not this time." Said Gandalf. "Armies of Orcs are on the move. These are fighters, they have been bred for war."

"Why show his hand now?" asked Legolas.

"Because we forced him! We forced him when the Company of Thorin Oakenshield set out to reclaim their homeland." Answered the wizard grimly. "The Dwarves were never meant to reach Erebor. Azog the Defiler was sent to kill them. His master seeks control of the Mountain. Not just for the treasure within, but where it lies, its strategic position. This is the gateway to reclaiming the lands of Angmar in the North. If that fell kingdom should rise again…" he looked hard at the Elvenking, knowing that Thranduil should need no explanation, given his past, "Rivendell, Lórien, the Shire—even Gondor itself will fall."

"These Orc Armies you speak of, Mithrandir," said the Elvenking; "where are they?"

For this Gandalf had no answer. He knew they were on their way, but he did not know from where or when they might arrive, and it seemed to the Elves and Men a very vague threat and did not seem to hold nearly as much weight with them as the wizard and Hannah had hoped. Long and hard Gandalf tried to argue the matter with the Elvenking, but evening fell and still Thranduil remained unswayed.

"Since when has my council counted for so little? What do you think I am trying to do?" asked the wizard angrily.

"I think you are trying to save your Dwarvish friends. And I admire your loyalty to them." Said Thranduil with a subtle glance to the side at Hannah, whom they could see was standing just outside with Legolas and Bard through the open tent flaps. "But it does not dissuade me from my cause. You started this, Mithrandir. You will forgive me if I finish it." With that he swept past the wizard and out of the tent. "Are the archers in position?" he asked Legolas.

"Yes, My Lord." The prince answered respectfully.

"Give the order: if anything moves on that mountain, kill it."

Needless to say, the others were shocked.

"I thought we were going to wait." Said Legolas.

"I am done waiting. The Dwarves are out of time." Said the king as he strode away into the night. Hannah glanced anxiously between her friend and his father before taking off after the king.

"Wait, wait! Please, don't do this!" she cried, rushing to catch up to him. "Your Majesty!"

"Do not call me that!" said the Elvenking sternly, pressing on without so much as a backward glance. "Do you think flattery will save your friends?"

"What?" said Hannah, blinking in confusion. "No, no—'Your Majesty' is simply a way to show deference for royalty where I come from. I am merely showing respect for your title. And, no, I do not think flattery can save my friends; but you can." She said earnestly.

"And why should I want to do that?" asked the king. "Did you not hear the order I just gave?"

"I did, and I don't think you gave it lightly. But I also think you may be kinder than you would have others believe." She said seriously, and this seemed to give him pause. "You treat your prisoners better than most, and despite what you told Mr. Bard and the Master, the truth is you went out of your way to help them. And I do not think you want this war. The only guarantees to be found in war are pain and suffering, and I you know that—I can tell. You have the same look in your eyes as the one I've seen in my grandfathers', the look of someone who has been through hell and back. You know what it's like to be surrounded by death and destruction. That's why you wouldn't risk your people against the dragon to help Thorin's grandfather. You wanted to protect them from all of that." Thranduil looked back at her now and saw in Hannah's eyes a gentle understanding and a desperate need to protect her friends. "Have you become so blinded by your desperate desire to recover one necklace that you forgot that?"

"I have not. But winter is coming on fast. Before long there will be snow and ice, and supplies will be difficult to come by, even for Elves. The longer we wait the more time it gives the Dwarves to contact and gather allies of their own. If this happens battle will be unavoidable. And if we must fight then better to do it now, while the elements are still in our favor." Said Thranduil sternly.

"Legolas, your son and my friend, is also here." Hannah reminded him. "He will also be drawn into battle if this conflict escalates. Please, for his sake if nothing else, don't do this."

Meanwhile Gandalf confronted the others.

"Legolas! Legolas Greenleaf, you cannot give that order." said the wizard anxiously. "I know you don't agree with your father. Hannah told me it was thanks to you that he agreed to spare the Dwarves for as long as he has."

"It is true that I suggested the siege," said Legolas, "but I have no love Dwarves. I did so out of friendship for her, in an attempt to spare her pain. But now that my king and father has given the order, I must obey." And the prince left to deliver the Elvenking's message to the guards.

"And you, bowman! Do you agree with this?" asked the wizard, turning to Bard. "Is gold so important to you that you would buy it with the blood of Dwarves?"

"It will not come to that." Said Bard. "This is a fight they cannot win."

"That won't stop them." Said a small voice grimly. The wizard and the bowman looked over and saw that a very familiar hobbit was making his way towards them in the company of two elven-guards. "You think the Dwarves will surrender? They won't. They will fight to the death to defend their own."

"Bilbo Baggins!" cried Gandalf, surprised and delighted to find him there, safe and unharmed. Bilbo smiled at the wizard, glad of his return. For the first time for many a day since seeing Hannah freed of her prison Bilbo was really delighted. But there was no time for all the questions that he immediately wished to ask.  
That night the hobbit had made up his mind to carry out the plan that he had come up with. The sky was black and moonless. As soon as it was full dark, he went to a corner of an inner chamber just within the gate and drew from his bundle a rope, and also the Arkenstone wrapped in a rag. Then he climbed to the top of the wall. Only Bombur was there, for it was his turn to watch, and the Dwarves kept only one watchman at a time.

"It is mighty cold!" said Bombur. "I wish we could have a fire up here as they have in the camp!"

"It is warm enough inside." Said Bilbo.

"I daresay; but I am bound here till midnight." Grumbled the fat dwarf. "A sorry business altogether. Not that I venture to disagree with Thorin, may his beard grow ever longer; yet he was ever a Dwarf with a stiff neck."

"Not as stiff as my legs." Said Bilbo. "I am tired of stairs and stone passages. I would give a good deal for the feel of grass at my toes."

"I would give a good deal for the feel of a strong drink in my throat, and for a soft bed after a good supper!"

"I can't give you those, while the siege is going on. But it is long since I watched, and I will take your turn for you, if you like. There is no sleep in me tonight."

"You are a good fellow, Mr. Baggins, and I will take your offer kindly. If there should be anything to note, rouse me first, mind you! I will lie in the inner chamber to the left, not far away."

"Off you go!" said Bilbo. "I will wake you at midnight, and you can wake the next watchman."

As soon as Bombur had gone, Bilbo put on his ring, fastened his rope, slipped down over the wall, and was gone. He had about five hours before him. Bombur would sleep (he could sleep at any time, and ever since the adventure in the forest he was always trying to recapture the beautiful dreams he had then); and all the others were busy with Thorin. It was unlikely that any, even Fili or Kili would come out onto the wall until it was their turn.  
It was very dark, and the road after a while, when he left the newly made path and climbed down towards the lower course of the stream, was strange to him. At last he came to the bend where he had to cross the water, if he was to make for the camp as he wished. The bed of the stream was there shallow but already broad, and fording it in the dark was not easy for the little hobbit. He was nearly across when he missed his footing on a round stone and fell into the cold water with a splash. He had barely had scrambled out on the far bank, shivering and spluttering, when up came Elves in the gloom with bright lanterns and searched for the cause of the noise.

"That was no fish!" one said. "There is a spy about. Hide your lights! They will help him more than us, if it is that queer little creature that is said to be their servant."

"Servant, indeed!" snorted Bilbo; and in the middle of his snort he sneezed loudly, and the Elves immediately gathered towards the sound.  
"Let's have a light!" he said. "I am here, if you want me!" and he slipped off his ring, and popped from behind a rock.  
They seized him quickly, in spite of their surprise.

"Who are you? Are you the Dwarves' hobbit? What are you doing? How did you get so far past our sentinels?" they asked one after another.

"I am Bilbo Baggins," he answered, "companion to Thorin, if you want to know. I know your king well by sight, though perhaps he doesn't know me to look at me. But Bard will remember me, and it is Bard I particularly want to see."

"Indeed!" said they, "and what may be your business?"

"Whatever it is, it's my own, my good Elves. But if you wish ever to get back to your own woods from this cold cheerless place," he answered shivering, "you will take me along quick to a fire, where I can dry—and then you will let me speak to your chiefs as quick as may be. I have only an hour or two to spare."

That is how it came about that Bilbo was now sitting beside a warm fire in front of a large tent, and there sat too, gazing curiously at him, both the Elvenking and Bard. A hobbit in Elvish armor, partly wrapped in an old blanket, was something new to them. And the hobbit was flanked supportively by the wizard and his young apprentice.

"If I am not mistaken, this is the Halfling who stole the keys to my dungeons from under the nose of my guards." Said Thranduil rather pointedly.

"Yes, sorry about that." said Bilbo a bit awkwardly, stirring the bowl of hot soup that Hannah had fetched for him. She had been overjoyed to see her little friend again and did her best to make him feel welcome. "But really you know," he said in his best business manner, "things are impossible. Personally I am tired of the whole affair. I wish I was back in the West in my own home, where folk are more reasonable. But I have an interest in the matter—one fourteenth share, to be precise, according to a letter, which fortunately I have kept." He drew from a pocket in his old jacket (which he still wore over his mail), crumpled and much folded, Thorin's letter that had been left on his chair in May!  
"A share in the _profits_, mind you," he went on. "I am aware of that. Personally I am only too ready to consider all your claims carefully, and deduct what is right from the total before putting in my own claim. However you don't know Thorin Oakenshield as well as I do now. I assure you, he is quite ready to sit on a heap of gold and starve, as long as you sit here."

"Well, let him!" said Bard. "Such a fool deserves to starve."

"Quite so." Said Bilbo. "I see your point of view. But there will be other difficulties. You have not heard of Dáin and the Dwarves of the Iron Hills?"

"We have, a long time ago; but what has that got to do with us?" asked the king.

"I thought as much. I see I have found some information you have not got. Dáin, I may tell you, is now less than two days' march off, and has at least five hundred grim Dwarves with him—a good many of them have had experience in the dreadful Dwarf and Goblin wars, of which you have no doubt heard. When they arrive there may be serious trouble."

"Why do you tell us this? Are you betraying your friends, or are you threatening us?" asked Bard grimly.

"My dear Bard!" squeaked Bilbo. "Don't be so hasty! I never met such suspicious folk! I am merely trying to avoid trouble for all concerned. Now I will make you an offer_!_!"

"Let us hear it!" they said.

"You may see it!" said he. "It is this!" and he drew forth the Arkenstone, and threw away the wrapping.  
The Elvenking himself, whose eyes were used to things of wonder and beauty, stood up in amazement. Even Bard and Hannah gazed marveling at it in silence. It was as if a globe had been filled with moonlight and hung before them in a net woven of the glint of frosty stars.

"The Arkenstone!" said Gandalf.

"The Heart of the Mountain." Said Thranduil.

"And it is also the heart of Thorin." Said Bilbo. "He values it above all else. I give it to you. It will aid you in your bargaining. In exchange for its return, I believe he will give you what you were owed. There will be no need for war." Then Bilbo, not without a shudder, not without a glance of longing, handed the marvelous stone to Bard, and he held it in his hand, as though dazed.

"But how is it yours to give?" he asked at last with an effort.

"Oh, well!" said the hobbit uncomfortably. "It isn't exactly; but, well, I am willing to let it stand against all my claim, don't you know. I may be a burglar—or so they say: personally I never really felt like one—but I am an honest one, I hope, more or less."

"Why would you do this?" asked Bard. "You owe us no loyalty."

"I'm not doing it for you." Answered Bilbo. "I know that Dwarves can be obstinate and pigheaded and difficult. And suspicious and secretive with the worst manners you can possibly imagine, but they are also brave and kind and loyal to a fault. I've grown very fond of them, and I would save them if I can."

The Elvenking looked at Bilbo with a new wonder. Thranduil could see why Hannah was so fond of him.

"Bilbo Baggins!" he said. "You are more worthy to wear the armor of elf-princes than many that have looked more comely in it. But I wonder if Thorin Oakenshield will see it so. I have more knowledge of Dwarves in general than you have perhaps. I advise you to remain with us, and here you shall be honored and thrice welcome."

"Thank you very much I am sure," said Bilbo with a bow. "But I don't think I ought to leave my friends like this, after all we have gone through together."

"I really think you should stay here with us." Said Hannah with concern. She didn't like to think of what Thorin might do to the hobbit if the Dwarf discovered this little transaction. Gandalf was inclined to agree with her, but Bilbo was proving quite stubborn.

"I really must return." Said the hobbit. "I promised to wake old Bombur at midnight! Really I must be going, and quickly."

"Yes, you should be going!" said Gandalf. "But not in the direction you think. Stay here and rest up for the rest of the night. You and Hannah must both leave on the morrow."

"What?" said Hannah and Bilbo, taken aback by the wizard's words.

"You must get as far away from here as possible."

"I-I'm not leaving." Said Bilbo.

"And neither am I." said Hannah, perplexed.

"Oh?" said the wizard.

"Well, I just don't see why we should be sent away now, after everything we've been through to reach this point. I understand that you wish to keep us safe, but the trouble here seems quite resolved, and I can't think we'll be very safe traveling on our own after that news you brought us about the Orcs!" said Hannah pointedly. "Besides, my ancestors have walked circles in the same desert for forty years. Are you sure you want me to wander about? Bilbo and I don't know the lay of the land the way you do."

"Quite right!" agreed the hobbit. "You picked me as the fourteenth man. I'm not about to leave the company now."

"There is no company, not any more. And I don't like to think what Thorin would do when he finds out what you've done." Said Gandalf.

"I'm not afraid of Thorin." Said Bilbo.

"Well, you should be! Don't underestimate the evil of gold; gold over which a serpent has long brooded. Dragon-sickness seeps into the hearts of all who come near this Mountain." The wizard paused for a moment and glanced between the hobbit and his young apprentice. "Almost all." He amended with the hint of a smile. "You there! Find this Hobbit a bed and fill his belly with hot food. He's earned it." Gandalf instructed one of the soldiers outside the tent. Then he lowered his voice and instructed the man: "Keep an eye on him. If he should try to leave, you tell me." For he did not think Bilbo would give in so easily.

Hannah moved to follow after her little friend, when Legolas spoke up again.

"Forty years?" he asked with a hint of wry amusement, while his father arched one of his eyebrows slightly.

"It was a big desert." She replied a bit sheepishly with a tinge of blush upon her cheeks before quickly ducking out of the tent after Bilbo.


	23. Chapter 23

**Previously:**

_"There is no company, not any more. And I don't like to think what Thorin would do when he finds out what you've done." Said Gandalf._

_"I'm not afraid of Thorin." Said Bilbo._

_"Well, you should be! Don't underestimate the evil of gold; gold over which a serpent has long brooded. Dragon-sickness seeps into the hearts of all who come near this Mountain." The wizard paused for a moment and glanced between the hobbit and his young apprentice. "Almost all." He amended with the hint of a smile. "You there! Find this Hobbit a bed and fill his belly with hot food. He's earned it." Gandalf instructed one of the soldiers outside the tent. Then he lowered his voice and instructed the man: "Keep an eye on him. If he should try to leave, you tell me." For he did not think Bilbo would give in so easily._

_Hannah moved to follow after her little friend, when Legolas spoke up again._

_"Forty years?" he asked with a hint of wry amusement, while his father arched one of his eyebrows slightly._

_"It was a big desert." She replied a bit sheepishly with a tinge of blush upon her cheeks before quickly ducking out of the tent after Bilbo._

* * *

**Chapter 23: The Clouds Burst**

* * *

Gandalf smiled wryly and shook his head at the girl as she disappeared into the bustling camp outside.

"Shall I go inform the men of our decision?" asked Bard.

"Yes, that would be most appreciated." Said Thranduil, stoking his chin as he watched the wizard. "Legolas, tell the archers to belay my last order. We wouldn't an incident to occur before our negotiations tomorrow. There is something I wish to discuss with you, _Mithrandir_." The Elvenking told the wizard as Bard and Legolas had took their leave to carry out the tasks he had set to them.

"Oh?" said Gandalf, turning to face the king. Did this mean he had finally decided to listen to him about the Orcs?

"Tell me, wherever did you find such a curious creature? Your mysterious young apprentice says the most peculiar things sometimes. Ancestors from a large desert; she cannot be speaking of the Harad, can she?" asked Thranduil grimly, wondering if he had cause to be concerned that she may come from a line that had been corrupted by Sauron.

"Oh, no!" said the wizard with a frown, guessing where the elf-king's thoughts were headed. "Believe you me, Hannah and her ancestors could not be further removed from the Enemy's influence. If you must know, two years ago, I had the good fortune to happen upon her while she was alone in the wild between the southern edge of Mirkwood and the Gap of Rohan. Since then, she has been under the care of Lord Elrond in Rivendell, and (as I'm sure he himself would only be too glad to do) I can vouch that young Hannah has proven herself to be a girl of impeccable character."

"Lord Elrond, you say? I see…" the Elvenking mused. The two elven-rulers had never met directly, but they knew of each other through reputation and legend. It would seem Hannah had managed to find herself a pair of rather formidable guardians. "She never mentioned this." He wondered why she had not said so at once, the moment she was caught.

"No, I don't imagine she would have. Hannah is an independent girl with an odd sense of manners. She tries to avoid drawing others into her problems whenever possible. I suppose she was concerned it might create 'unnecessary trouble' for Lord Elrond if her connection to him became known while she was being held as someone else's captive."

"Ridiculous. It is a guardian's responsibility to come to the aid of their ward." said Thranduil with a slight frown.

"Indeed." Gandalf agreed. "But as I said before, Hannah can be frustratingly independent at times. She is not too proud to ask for and accept help when she needs it, but as of yet she has never let either of us take complete responsibility for her, and I don't think she ever will; since she is so set on returning home some day." The wizard mumbled the last part, but Thranduil still heard him.

"And where exactly is this home of hers?" the Elvenking asked pointedly. Her mother might be gone, but surely her father and the grandfathers she spoke so fondly of would have been against allowing such a young girl to participate in such a perilous journey as this one had turned out to be. Who in their right mind would willingly send their own child to face a Dragon with a pack of Dwarves?

"Ah. Now, that," said Gandalf, lifting the tent flap, "I am quite sure you would not believe, even if I told you." The wizard finished as he ducked out of the tent, leaving Thranduil to ponder his cryptic words alone.  
Hannah did not return until very late; and when she did, she staggered straight to bed and dropped like a log.

"I wonder what she has been up to all this time?" Legolas said, regarding his young friend with curiosity. He had assumed she would be catching up with her little hobbit friend, but when he stopped to check on his way back, she wasn't there.

"What indeed…" said Thranduil as he stood over her cot, staring down at the sleeping girl with cool eyes. The large enigma looked so small and innocent while curled up in those blankets…

Next day the trumpets rang early in the camp. Soon a whole host of Elves and Men was gathered before the Gate of Erebor. Wondering, the Dwarves saw that among them were both Bard and the Elvenking. Legolas was there, accompanying his father. At a distance a messenger stood and hailed the Dwarves, asking whether Thorin would now listen to another embassy, since new tidings had come to hand, and matters were changed.

"That will be Dain!" said Thorin when he heard. "They will have got wind of his coming. I thought that would alter their mood! Bid them come few in number and weaponless, and I will hear," he called to the messenger. The Thranduil and Bard laid aside their swords, passing them to trusted allies for safekeeping, and came on towards the Gate.

"Hail Thorin!" said Bard as they approached the Dwarves. "Are you still of the same mind?" The two leaders were somewhat startled when Thorin grabbed a bow and fired an arrow at the ground before the hooves of Thranduil's great elk, forcing the Elvenking to stop short.

"My mind does not change with the rising and setting of a few suns." Answered Thorin. "Did you come to ask me idle questions? Still the elf-host has not departed as I bade! Till then you come in vain to bargain with me. I will put the next one between your eyes." he threatened the Elvenking. Thranduil's eyes hardened, and Legolas's hand twitched with the urge to reach for his bow as the other Dwarves let out a rude cheer in support of their king's actions. With a slight incline of his head, too subtle for most human eyes to perceive, the Elvenking signaled for Legolas and the rest of the Elves behind him to draw their bows and take aim at the foolish Dwarves in one fluid motion, moving as if they were one. Greeted with such an intimidating sight, all of the Dwarves, save Thorin, quickly ducked for cover with a cry of alarm. Bard glanced at the Elvenking beside him. He certainly knew how to intimidate. Seeing the look on Thorin's face as his men cowered, Thranduil then raised his hand and gave the signal to stand down. Legolas and the rest of the Elves promptly lowered their bows and returned their drawn arrows to their quivers. That should serve as a decent reminder for the Dwarves not to get too ahead of themselves.

Back in the camp, Hannah let out a sigh as she paced the tent nervously. She had been left behind in the city with the reserves (supposedly for her own safety). Feeling anxious and in need of some company, she decided to check on Bilbo and see if he had yet to awake, only to find the hobbit missing from his bed. The uncanny feeling in the pit of Hannah's stomach began to deepen, and she quickly checked any and all places where she might expect to find him with no results.

"He didn't—Gandalf! Mr. Gandalf!" she cried, immediately dashing off through the Gates of Dale to find her mentor before it was too late.

"We have come to tell you payment of your debt has been offered, and accepted." Thranduil informed Thorin.

"What payment?" asked Thorin. "I gave you nothing. You have nothing." He did not like the superior expression on the Elvenking's face as he glanced at Bard.

"We have this." Said Bard, reaching into his coat. "The Arkenstone of Thráin." Said he, holding the jewel aloft. The light leapt from his hand, bright and white in the morning.

Then Thorin was stricken dumb with amazement and confusion. No one spoke for a long while.  
Thorin at length broke the silence, and his voice was thick with wrath. "That stone is my father's, and mine," he said. "That stone belongs to the king!" But wonder overcame him and he added: "But how came you by the heirloom of my house—if there is need to ask such a question of thieves?"

"We are not thieves." Bard answered. "Your own we will give back in return for our own."

"How came you by it?" shouted Thorin in gathering rage.

"I gave it them!" squeaked Bilbo, who was peeping over the wall, by now, in a dreadful fright.

"You! You!" cried Thorin, turning upon him and grasping him in both hands. "You miserable hobbit! You undersized—burglar!" he shouted at a loss for words, and he shook poor Bilbo like a rabbit.  
"By the beard of Durin! I wish I had Gandalf here! Curse him for his choice of you! May his beard wither! As for you I will throw you to the rocks!" he cried and lifted Bilbo in his arms. The other Dwarves cried out in fear for the hobbit.

"Stay! Your wish is granted!" said a voice. They looked down and saw Gandalf throwing aside his hood and cloak, hurrying to the Gate with Hannah, who had managed to locate him amongst the members of the host without a minute to spare when Bilbo revealed himself. "Here is Gandalf! And none too soon it seems. If you don't like my Burglar, please don't damage him. Put him down, and listen to what he has to say!"

"You all seem in league!" said Thorin dropping Bilbo on top of the wall. Hannah bit her lip nervously as she watched. "Never again will I have dealings with any wizard or his friends. What have you to say, you descendant of rats?"

"Dear me! Dear me!" said Bilbo. "I am sure this is all very uncomfortable. You may remember saying that I might choose my own fourteenth share? Perhaps I took it too literally—I have been told that Dwarves are sometimes politer in word than in deed. The time was, all the same, when you seemed to think that I had been of some service. Descendant of rats, indeed! Is this all the service of you and your family that I was promised, Thorin? Take it that I have disposed of my share as I wished, and let it go at that!"

"I will," said Thorin grimly. "And I will let you go at that—and may we never meet again!" Then he turned and spoke over the wall. "I am betrayed!" he said. "Take this traitor, if you wish him to live; and no friendship of mine goes with him.  
"Get down now to your friends!" he said to Bilbo. "Or I will throw you down." Bilbo hesitated, wanting to ask whether Thorin would at least agree to trade the Arkenstone for one fourteenth of the treasure hoard, but the rest of the company bid him to leave quickly before Thorin changed his mind. "Get down!"

"You are not making a very splendid figure as King under the Mountain. But things may change yet." Said Gandalf, watching as Bilbo was swung down from the wall, and departed with nothing for his trouble, except the armor which Thorin had given him already. More than one of the Dwarves in their hearts felt shame and pity at his going. For his part, Bilbo still hoped they may yet meet again as friends.

"They may indeed." Said Thorin. And already so strong was the bewilderment of the treasure upon him, he was pondering whether by the help of Dáin he might not recapture the Arkenstone without having to part with a single coin.

"Are we then resolved?" asked Bard. "The return of the Arkenstone for what was promised?" Thorin looked over the westward horizon. "Give us your answer." Said Bard grimly. "Will you have peace, or war?" At that moment, one of the messengers sent by Roäc returned. The young raven landed beside Thorin with a squawk, and tilting its head, bid him look again. A great rumbling as the rolling of low thunder was heard as an army of Dwarves came marching over the crest of the great hill.

"I will have war." Answered Thorin.

"Ironfoot." Said Gandalf grimly, troubled by this turn of events. Dáin had come. He had hurried on through the night, and so had come upon them sooner than they had expected. Each one of his folk was clad in a hauberk of steel mail that hung to his knees, and his legs were covered with hose of a fine and flexible metal mesh, the secret of whose making was possessed by Dáin's people. The Dwarves were exceedingly strong for their height, but most of these were strong even for Dwarves. In battle they wielded heavy two-handed mattocks; but each of them also had a short broad sword at his side and a round shield slung at his back. Their beards were forked and plaited and thrust into their belts. Their caps were of iron and they were shod with iron, and their faces were grim.  
Thorin's company let out a cheer at the sight the army from the Iron Hills, while Thranduil quickly rallied his troops, ordering them to turn and face this new threat. Legolas cast a concerned glance at Hannah, but she quickly flashed him a smile and mouthed 'not to worry' at him as he joined the ranks of his father's troops.

"Who is that?" she asked Gandalf, hurrying alongside the wizard and Bilbo as the two sides marched over to meet each other. "He doesn't look very happy."

"It is Dáin, Lord of the Iron Hills. Thorin's cousin." Answered the wizard with a frown.

"Are they alike?" asked Bilbo.

"I have always found Thorin the more reasonable of the two." Gandalf replied without humor.

"Oh, dear…" said Hannah, exchanging a worried glance with the hobbit.

"Good morning! How are we all?" Dáin greeted the masses before him, riding out on his armored boar before the rest of his army. His tone was as light and pleasant as if they had simply encountered him during his morning stroll. "I have a wee proposition," said he, bringing his army to a halt; "if you wouldn't mind giving me a few moments of your time. Would you consider… just sodding off_!_?" he shouted suddenly at the end, causing the Laketown army to begin to pull back in fear. "All of you! Right now!"

'Oh my.' thought Hannah, blinking in surprise. She hadn't expected him to be so terribly Scottish. This was not the sort of enemy you wanted to have.

"Stand fast!" Bard ordered his men.

"Oh, come now, Lord Dáin." Said Gandalf, stepping forward.

"Gandalf the Grey." Said Dáin with furrowed brow, surprised to see him there. "Tell this rabble to leave, or I'll water the ground with their blood."

"There is no need for war between Dwarves, Men, and Elves." Said the wizard firmly. "A legion of Orcs march on the Mountain. Stand your army down."

"I will not stand down before any Elf. Not least this faithless woodland sprite." Answered Dáin pointing his crimson hammer at Thranduil. "He wishes nothing but ill upon my people. If he chooses to stand between me and my kin, I'll split his pretty head open! See if he's still smirking then." The smug expression on the Elvenking's face was just daring him to try it.

"Dáin!" the Dwarves in Erebor cheered.

"He's clearly mad, like his cousin." Said Thranduil in response. Hannah looked down and pinched the bridge of her nose. Now he'd done it.

"You hear that, lads? We're on!" Dáin shouted turning away to rally his troops. "Let's give these bastards a good hammering!" He began ordering his Dwarves to ready themselves for battle, when suddenly they heard a might noise from the depths of the earth, and the ground shook beneath their feet. Thranduil's eyes widened. It could not be!

"An earthquake? Now?" said Hannah, startled.

"No." said Gandalf gravely, looking as if he had seen a ghost. "Were-worms." The moment the words left his lips, a monstrously massive worm-like creature burst through one of the mountains with a shrill shriek, grinding the rock and stone effortlessly between its teeth. And it was soon joined by more.

"My God!" cried Hannah in fear and alarm. Of all the things she had seen throughout her life so far, this one scene struck her as the most shocking. Bilbo couldn't believe his eyes. The hobbits had a legend of the wild were-worms in the Last Desert, East of East; but to think that such creatures would appear here! They were even more enormous than Smaug had been!  
Still more suddenly a darkness came on with dreadful swiftness. A black cloud hurried over the sky. Winter thunder on a wild wind rolled roaring up and rumbled in the Mountain, and lightning lit its peak. And beneath the thunder another blackness could be seen whirling forward; but it did not come with the wind, it came from the North, like a vast cloud of birds, so dense that no light could be seen between their wings.

"Dread has come upon you all!" Gandalf called to the Elves, Men, and Dwarves in a voice like thunder. "Alas! It has come more swiftly than I guessed. The Orcs are upon you! Azog of the North is coming. Behold! The bats are above his army like a sea of locusts. They ride upon wolves and Wargs are in their train!"

Amazement and confusion fell upon them all. Even as Gandalf had been speaking the darkness grew and from the vast holes carved into the mountain by the were-worms issued forth a dark legion of Orcs and Goblins. Their banners were countless, black and red, and they came like a tide in fury and disorder. To Hannah it seemed it was as if the Hordes of Hell were upon them.

"Come forth my armies!" Azog commanded his troops in their black speech.

"To battle!" Dáin ordered the Dwarves. "To battle, sons of Durin!" The Dwarves quickly regained their nerve and began marching out to meet Azog's forces.

"I'm going over the wall, who is coming with me?" asked Kili, eager to join their cousins.

"Aye! Yes!" answered the rest of the Dwarves in Thorin's company bravely.

"Come on, let's go." said Fili preparing to leave.

"Stand down." Thorin ordered turning his back on the battle below. The other Dwarves were startled.

"What? Are we to do nothing?" asked Fili.

"I said stand down!" Thorin barked sternly.

"The Elves, will they not fight?" asked Bilbo. The Orcs were about to attack, and still the Elf army did not move.

"They must!" Hannah cried anxiously. "Our numbers are too few, we must join forces, or we'll all perish!"

"Thranduil! This is madness!" shouted Gandalf.

"Father!" said Legolas urgently upon hearing their cries. Thranduil glanced between his son and his people and the immense legion of Orcs that the Dwarves were preparing to face on their own.  
The Orcs charged towards the Dwarf army and suddenly found themselves facing Elvish steel as the first line of the Elf army leapt over the defensive line that had been formed by the Dwarves and their shields to take the enemy by surprise and break up some of the force behind the charge. Seeing this, the Dwarves dissolved the line of their own volition and led their own charge alongside the Elves.

"Charge, yes!" commanded Dáin galloping forth on his war-pig with hammer raised.

"Uh, Gandalf, is this a good place to stand?" Bilbo asked a bit nervously as the Elf army began marching around them.

"Perhaps you ought to put on your ring." Hannah suggested. A magic ring of that sort is not a complete protection in an orc charge, nor does it stop flying arrows and wild spears; but it does help in getting out of the way, and it prevents your head from being specially chosen for a sweeping stroke by an orc swordsman. Seeing the reason in this, Bilbo agreed and slipped on his ring, and vanished from sight, if not from all danger. He would stick by his friends as an invisible guardian.

"Send in the War Beasts!" Azog ordered once he had finished setting himself up on Ravenhill while his generals led the charge below. Gandalf and Hannah looked up as great orc-horn was blown and saw that a strange apparatus had been raised upon the hill. Thranduil issued more orders to his troops as they continued to fight the Orcs. Elf archers drew their bows and sent against the enemy a shower of arrows.  
"They cannot fight on two fronts. Now we make our move." Said Azog. "Attack the city!" The horn sounded again, and Hannah noticed the movements of the Orcs appeared to coincide with the movement of the apparatus on the hill when part of the legion changed directions and began heading for the city of Dale, where the Elf army's reserves were.

"It's a signal!" she said. If they could take that thing out, then perhaps the enemy army would fall into disarray.

"Azog. He's trying to cut us off." Said Gandalf.

"All of you, fall back to Dale! Now!" Bard ordered the men of Laketown. Huge trolls bearing portable trebuchets on their backs had begun to appear on the battlefield, and they were headed straight for Dale.

"I must get to the city!" Hannah cried, taking off at run.

"Hannah! Bilbo, this way!" the wizard shouted, hoping the invisible hobbit would follow, and chased after his young apprentice.

"Hannah!" called Legolas with worry when he spotted her alone on the battlefield. It was a terrible battle, his first. The most dreadful of all Legolas's experiences, and the one which at the time he hated the most—which is to say it was the one he was most proud of, and most fond of recalling long afterwards. The yells were deafening. The rocks were stained black with orc blood. The orcs riding on the backs of the trolls carrying the trebuchets launched a volley of rocks in the same direction that Hannah was headed.

"Legolas!" shouted Thranduil, removing the head of the Orc that had been about to attack his son from behind with a sweeping stroke of his sword. "This is war! Focus on the enemy at hand!" he said sternly, concerned for the elfing's safety. "Leave Hannah to her guardian."

"Bard! Mr. Bard!" Hannah shouted when he nearly passed her by on his horse as the great boulders crashed against the ruined walls. Hannah's eyes widened in alarm when one brought down an old tower that had been near the wall facing closest to Ravenhill.

"Young Hannah!" he said shocked to see her on her own. Where was the wizard? She thrust her hand up towards him, and he swung her up onto to back of his steed to keep her from being trampled. "What are you—"

"I need to get to that tower!" said Hannah urgently, pointing to. "I left something that may help us stop the orcs from signaling each other there."

"What?" said Bard furrowing his brow in surprise.

"Hurry!" she shouted. Bard cracked the reigns and spurred his horse to run faster, and together they sped across the causeway into the city, racing against the army of orcs that were charging towards the section of the wall near her fallen tower. Bard quickly brought Hannah to its base. She immediately hopped down and began shifting through the rubble.

"Here it is!" she exclaimed relieved to see that it was still intact aside from a couple of small dents.

"What is that?" asked Bard eyeing the long tube with suspicion. It looked like the end of an old pipe.

"Our secret weapon." She answered as she began climbing the steps up the wall. "Thank you, I'll take it from here. You need to go rally the troops! Your men need you. Go!" The moment she reached the top, Hannah set down her homemade rocket and did her best to position it so that it was aimed over the wall the signaling apparatus on Ravenhill.  
"Please work!" she prayed while striking a match against its side to light the fuse, holding it steady. The explosion was deafening. The rocket shell shot straight from the pipe, sailed through the air with a shrill shriek, and plowed right into the signaling apparatus, breaking it in half before bursting into a shower of white sparks. The Orcs shrieked in pain when the sparks hit their skin. Azog let out a furious roar as the sparks rained down upon him. The Elves and Dwarves looked up at the spectacle in astonishment. Panic came upon the Orcs on the battlefield below, and, as hoped, their army quickly fell into confusion and disarray once Azog lost his means of communicating with them en masse.

"What was that?" asked Legolas.

"Fireworks?" said Bilbo, furrowing his brow in confusion.

"Hannah!" exclaimed Gandalf. "I don't know where she scraped that thing together from, but bless her!"

"She really did it." Said Bard, amazed. But the battle was not over yet, and Hannah had no time to celebrate.

"Whoa! Time to go!" said she when she realized the great troll, who had a battering-ram strapped to his head, was still charging straight at the section of wall she was perched on. "Get off the wall! Get off the wall!" she urged herself, dropping the spent rocket to run for her life, as the troll rammed itself headfirst into the wall, knocking out a great gaping hole for the orcs following it to plow through. Bard led the men of Laketown to meet and repel the invaders, and with them came Gandalf and Bilbo.

"Mr. Bard, Orcs are storming over the causeway!" called Hannah, who had stopped along the wall to provide cover from above with her arrows, and had a much better view than they.

"Get the bowman to the eastern parapet. Hold them off for as long as you can." Bard ordered on of the men.

"Archers, this way!" said he, leading the way to carry out their task.

Day drew on. The Orcs gathered again in the valley. Even without the visual signaling apparatus Azog could still issue commands by sounding the horn. They had only stemmed the first onslaught of the black tide. Soon actual darkness was coming into a stormy sky; while still great bats swirled about the heads and ears of elves and men, or fastened vampire-like on the stricken. The Bard and the men of Laketown were at being held at bay within the city. Legolas and the elf-lords followed their king in a charge to retake one of the causeways. Leading the way astride his great elk, Thranduil mowed down any and all who were foolish enough to cross his path, beheading those orcs who had the misfortune of being caught in his elk's antler with a broad stroke. But he was fired upon by orc archers upon entering the gates of the city, and the Elvenking was thrown when the majestic beast was felled by enemy arrows. Thranduil quickly rolled and landed on his feet in a crouching position with sword drawn, and the Elvenking fought off the orcs that had begun to surround him. Legolas's bow sang with arrow after arrow as he led the rest of the elves forward to the aid of his father and king.

"They cannot hold the city!" said Azog watching from atop Ravenhill. "The Dwarves are almost spent." They were falling back to the Mountain. "Let these lands run with blood! Slaughter them all."

Suddenly there was a great shout, and from the Gate of Erebor came a trumpet call. They had forgotten Thorin! Part of the wall, moved by levers, fell outward with a crash into the pool. Out leapt the King under the Mountain, and his companions followed him. Hood and cloak were gone; they were in shining armor, and red light leapt from their eyes. In the gloom the great Dwarf gleamed like gold in a dying fire. Thorin had finally regained his former self.  
Rocks were hurled down at them; but they held on, leaped down to the fall's foot, and rushed forward to battle. Wolf and rider fell or fled before them. Thorin wielded his axe with mighty strokes, and nothing seemed to harm him.

"To me! To me! Elves and Men! To me! O my kinsfolk!" he cried, and his voice shook like a horn in the valley.

"To the king! To the king!" cried Dáin.

Down, heedless of order, rushed all of the dwarves of Dáin to his help. Down too came many of the spearmen of the elves who had not gone into the city.

"The Dwarves! They're rallying." Said Hannah watching from the wall of Dale.

"They're rallying to their king." Said Gandalf.

"Any man who wants to give their last, follow me!" called Bard rallying his own troops to push back the enemy. Gandalf joined them, and Hannah ran along the wall firing the last of her arrows. Then she lost sight of the men when they made a turn and pursued the orcs into a lower level of the city. For a brief moment Hannah was at a loss for what she should do next now that she was out of arrows and had become separated from the others again, when she spotted Legolas and Thranduil, who had been cut off from the rest of the wood-elves and were fighting back to back while surrounded by orcs. To make matters worse a troll was lumbering towards them.

"Oh, ruddy hell!" Hannah cursed, deciding to go for broke by jumping up on top of the wall to throw herself over the side and hitch a ride on the passing troll, which had thankfully not noticed her until it was too late, and her knife was already sinking into its spine through its tough hide with help from the momentum of her fall. 'Well, here goes nothing…' she thought gritting her teeth and using the blade to hijack its nervous system.  
"Look out!" she called out in Elvish. Legolas and Thranduil looked up in astonishment and alarm when they saw what the young girl was up to, and quickly ducked and moved out of the way as the troll's meaty fist swung over their heads, and she used it to plow through half the orcs around them. Hannah rolled off the troll with a cry when it was felled by some of the remaining orcs. Thranduil's hand shot out and pulled the girl out of the reach of an orc-blade as it slashed the where spot she had landed, while Legolas felled its owner with an arrow.

"Shield your eyes!" Hannah shouted again in Elvish, throwing down a small flash grenade. The Orcs cried out in shock and pain while the Elves took advantage of their enemies' momentary disorientation to finish them off. Hannah quickly retrieved her knife from the fallen troll and followed the two Elves to higher ground.

"Really, Hannah? A troll?" Legolas asked, bemused. Thranduil frowned. The girl was far too reckless. She very nearly got herself killed!

"I was out of arrows." said Hannah. "But that was right terrifying, so don't expect me to go doing it again any time soon."

"You're mad!" Thranduil told her with a shake of his head.

"You're welcome!" she quipped. Legolas laughed. But their smiles fell when they reached the next level and found the ground littered with the bodies of fallen elves and men. They stopped cold. Legolas looked on in shock, stunned. He had never seen a dead Elf before. He didn't know what to feel. He couldn't feel. It was as if his body had gone completely numb till all that remained was the gnawing emptiness we know as grief. The same look that was in his father's eyes. Thranduil's normally cold eyes shone with grief new and old, the pain of this fresh loss deepened by memories of the last war and the loss of his father and wife and so many other members of his people. The same war that some of these poor souls lying before him had survived only to now count amongst the dead here today. Hannah remained silent, regarding the tragic scene with mournful eyes. She had been very careful to avoid looking at the fallen for fear that it would stop her in her tracks like this. It suddenly hit Hannah just hoe tired she was. She was used to the idea of war and death, but she had never seen it up close on such a large scale before. And she found the deaths of such beautiful and normally long-lived creatures especially heart-breaking. Thranduil and Legolas both looked up in surprise when they felt her small hands slip into theirs. Hannah didn't even seem to be aware that she had done it. But the touch of her warm skin against theirs and seeing a fraction of their own grief being shared and mirrored in her twilight eyes was strangely comforting amidst the sea of carnage; a reminder that they, at least, were still alive.

"Hannah!" Gandalf called, startling his apprentice out of her daze. She blinked and realized the wizard and Bilbo were headed straight for her. Bilbo must have taken off his ring since she could see him. "Hannah Hayes! I have been looking everywhere for you. You simply cannot go wander off on your own like that. Are you trying to get yourself killed?" He scolded the girl sternly, leaning down and grabbing her by the shoulders to show her how serious he was. "I hope you haven't been causing too much trouble for King Thranduil and Legolas here." She was just about to answer, when Feren, one of Thranduil's guards came running over to meet them

"My Lord!" the elf called urgently. "A second army has been seen on the distant horizon. Bolg, spawn of Azog, leads a force of Gundabad Orcs. They are almost upon us." Hannah exchanged a worried glance with the hobbit.

"Gundabad?" asked Legolas furrowing his brow. Thranduil looked back at the deceased elves.

"Ahh. This was their plan all along." Said Gandalf grimly. "Azog engages our forces, then Bolg sweeps in from the north."

"What? Th… The north? Where is the north exactly?" asked Bilbo.

"Ravenhill." Said the wizard.

"You mean the one I fire the rocket at?" Hannah asked, looking round.

"Thorin is up there." Said Bilbo. "And Fili and Kili! They're all up there!"

"Do you have another rocket?" Gandalf asked Hannah in the hope it could be used to give them a warning signal.

"No, I only had enough powder left for the one." She answered worriedly with a frown.

"Blast!" the wizard cursed.

"Recall your company." Thranduil ordered Feren. Feren immediately sounded the horn.

"My lord! Please dispatch this force to Ravenhill, the Dwarves are about to be overrun. Thorin must be warned." Said Gandalf gravely.

"By all means, warn him. I have spent enough Elvish blood in defense of this accursed land. No more!" said Thranduil, walking off. The remainder of his army and Feren soon followed.

"Your Majesty?" Hannah called after him in dismay. "Legolas?" Legolas hesitated, glancing between his retreating father and disappointed friend, before hurrying away to catch up with the Elvenking. Hannah ran her hands through her, not knowing what to do.  
"I can't—!" she said running after them.

"Hannah!" cried Gandalf.

"I'll go." Said Bilbo.

"Don't be ridiculous. You'll never make it." Said the wizard.

"Why not?" asked the hobbit.

"Because they will see you coming, and kill you!"

"No they won't. They won't see me." Bilbo said confidently. Had Gandalf failed to notice how he had managed to disappear so expertly from his side earlier?

"Wait! Please!" Hannah shouted, chasing after the Elves. Thranduil squeezed his eyes shut, doing his best to ignore her cries. Legolas bit his lip, unable to bear any more.

"You will not turn away." The prince said stepping out in front of the king to block his way. "Not this time."

"Fall back in line, Legolas." The Elvenking ordered stiffly in no mood for an argument.

"Please!" said Hannah urgently, moving to stand beside her friend. "If you leave now, the Dwarves will be slaughtered."

"Yes, they will die." Said Thranduil. "Today, tomorrow, one year hence, a hundred years from now. What does it matter? They are mortal. But you are welcome to leave with us, if you want to live." Hannah looked at him sadly. There was no blame or anger, only pained understanding and disappointment.

"No, I cannot." She said to the elves' dismay, taking a step back. She would not leave without the others. "I'm a mortal, too, remember? Why should my life be worth more than theirs? As you have already pointed out, Your Majesty, death is inevitable for me; as it will be for you and all your kin should the Orcs take the Mountain. A shadow and a threat already lies over the land, and it will only grow stronger with their victory. So I see little point in running away now. I'm going to keep fighting. I'm not going to give up, I'll find a way to win. And if I don't… well, I suppose today is as good a day to day as any." She finished with a wan smile, turning to leave.

"Wait." Said Legolas. "I will go with you."

"Out of the question." Said Thranduil sternly. "I won't allow it."

"Father," said Legolas. "I am not asking you to." Thranduil watched them walk away together, stunned. For the first time, Legolas had defied his orders and turned his back on him. He was no longer a child who could be controlled by the words alone. The Elvenking suddenly felt as though he had just lost something very precious.

"Are you sure?" Hannah asked her friend as they walked, glancing back at the other Elves. She was still worried about Thranduil.

"I'm sure." Answered Legolas. He could not abandon her in her hour of need any more than she could abandon the others. "Anyway, I have an idea for how we can reach the Dwarves… but I don't think you are going to like it." He said, eyeing the bats circling in the air. "Follow me!"

Poor old Gandalf had to look twice to be sure that his eyes weren't deceiving him when he saw the elf-prince and his young apprentice fly past, each clinging to the lower legs of a great dark bat to hitch a ride. Of course, since they had not bothered to stop to talk to the wizard first, they had no idea that Bilbo had already gone ahead to warn Thorin.

"Ugh, why did it have to be bats?" Hannah moaned. She hated bats. They were like rats with wings! Why did all of her least favorite things have to be so big in this world?

"_Mithrandir_!" called the Elvenking, coming up to meet the wizard.

"Oh? I thought you were leaving." Said Gandalf.

"Change of plans." Said Thranduil grimly. He was not leaving without his son. "We will retake Ravenhill. Have you seen—"

"Just flew by on a pair of bats." Answered Gandalf, knowing exactly who he must be looking for. Thranduil frowned and furrowed his brow, thoroughly bemused.

"That girl is a bad influence." The Elvenking said decisively.

"Where is that orc filth?" asked Dwalin. He and Thorin had just finished off a hundred or so goblin mercenaries while Kili and Fili went ahead to search the inside of the old watchtower, when a very out of breath Bilbo suddenly popped into view.

"Thorin!" called Bilbo.

"Bilbo." Said Thorin, surprised to see the hobbit there, especially after the way he had been treated.

"You have to leave here. Now!" Bilbo said urgently. "Azog has another army, attacking from the north. This watchtower will be completely surrounded, there will be no way out."

"We are so close." Said Dwalin. "That orc scum is in there. I say we push on."

"No! That's what he wants. He wants to draw us in." said Thorin. The Dwarves' eyes widened with a terrible realization. "This is a trap. Find Fili and Kili, call them back."

"Thorin, are you sure about this?" asked Dwalin.

"Do it." Said Thorin. "We live to fight another day." Unfortunately these words would not hold true.  
Suddenly there came the deep beat of black drum and red torch-light illuminated the tower from within. Out came Azog and his guards, dragging poor Fili by the scruff of his neck.

"Oh no." Bilbo gasped. He and the older two Dwarves stared up in horror at the sight of Thorin's nephew being dangled over the edge from such a great height in chokehold. Even now Fili was struggling to break free.

"This one dies first." Said Azog. "Then the brother. Then you, Oakenshield. You will die last."

"Go!" Fili choked out. Thorin shook his head. He could not leave him. "Run!" Azog impaled Fili without mercy. For a moment Bilbo felt as if his own heart had stopped, and he heard Thorin and Dwalin inhale sharply beside him in shock.

"Here ends your filthy bloodline!" said Azog letting Fili's corpse drop to the cold ground, where it landed right in front of poor Kili, who had emerged from the lower level just in time to see his brother killed. Enraged, Kili gave a cry of fury and charged up the steps to the top to exact revenge.

"Kili!" cried Thorin, running after his nephew.

"Thorin! Thorin, no!" Dwalin yelled chasing after him. Bilbo stared at the horrific scene before him a moment longer, drew his sword, and then followed the Dwarves. But while Thorin and Kili engaged Azog and his guards, Bilbo and Dwalin were prevented from going any further by the untimely arrival of Bolg and his bodyguards. The Orcs of Gundabad were upon them!

"Slay them all!" ordered Bolg. Bilbo slipped on his ring and disappeared again, chucking hard rocks at bare orc heads while fighting alongside Dwalin. This confused the Orcs greatly and kept them from closing round them too tightly.  
However, it wasn't just Orcs descending upon Ravenhill. As their bats finally reached the hill, Legolas and Hannah saw how much trouble the others were in. The Dwarves had all become separated from each other and forced to face many foes on their own as result. (Or so it appeared, since Bilbo happened to be invisible at the moment. But the poor hobbit was soon knocked out by the end of blunt handle crashing into his head that belonged to a careless orc as its owner ran straight past him.) Hannah and Legolas soon encountered trouble of their own when their bats swooped down to drag them through a pack of charging Orcs. Legolas quickly flipped round to hold onto the bat with his legs so he could use his hands to draw his daggers, and cut down the enemies in their path; while Hannah, who was not nearly the talented gymnast her elf friend was, had to settle for curling her legs up to dodge the few he missed along the way. But their bats soon caught a strong wind that lifted them up much higher.

"Okay, we're here… Now how do we get down?" Hannah inquired nervously, not liking the look of that steep drop to the ground below. Her question was soon answered when they spotted another old tower directly in their flight path. Hannah watched while Legolas, still hanging upside down, sheathed his blades and drew his bow. He waited for the perfect moment and shot an arrow up through the bottom of his bat's head, then as the bat fell, he gracefully flipped down onto the top of the tower.

'I hope he isn't expecting me to be able to do that...' thought Hannah feeling a little intimidated. She was out of arrows for one thing.  
But Legolas proved more than willing to give her a hand with that, and without her even having to ask he shot Hannah's bat for her and caught her on her way down.

"Oh, brilliant." Said Hannah, impressed.

"Go in for the kill! Finish him!" shouted Azog. They looked down and saw that Thorin had been surrounded on the frozen falls and knocked on his back. Hannah reached for her bow but remembered belatedly that she was out of arrows, so Legolas intervened, felling many of the Orcs with his own.

"I'm useless up here. I'm going down." She said, drawing her knife.

"Take care!" said Legolas, drawing another arrow.

"You, too!" she said disappearing down the long flight of stairs. She hurried down as fast as she could, and decided to make her way towards Kili since he looked like he could use some help the last time she saw him (they did not have a clear line of sight for him from the tower). Hannah cautiously crept through the ruins as quickly as she dared while keeping her eyes peeled for enemies.  
"Whoa!" she cried when an Orc nearly blind-sided her, ducking as his axe embedded itself in the wall, and stabbing him in the neck before he could recover. Hannah made a run for it while her attacker was choking on his own blood and had the good luck not to run into any more for a while. But her luck seemed to run out when she reached her destination and found that Bolg already had Kili in his grip, about to impale the young Dwarf with the point end of his mace. Hannah let out a cry of alarm and threw herself on the Orc's back in an attempt to stop him. She moved to stab Bolg in the neck as well, but the large Orc quickly shrugged the girl off and threw her aside. Hannah grunted in pain when she hit the ground, and her fingers scrapped against cold rock, clawing for a purchase to keep herself from sliding over the edge and falling to her doom. Her eyes widened in horror when she looked up and saw Bolg's mace pierce through poor Kili from his chest through to his back. Her eyes met Kili's. "Run." was upon his lips as he breathed his last.

"No!" Hannah screamed. Bolg dropped Kili's corpse and turned to face her with a nasty leer. She was next. Hannah should have been afraid. She didn't even have her knife any more. But she wasn't. In the place of fear was a burning rage like she had never felt before. She was tired of losing people she cared about. With a fierce cry Hannah launched herself at the hateful Orc. He tried to shake the girl off but her anger had given her a burst of enormous strength, and she used her momentum to swing around and kick off of the rocks, pushing them both over the edge. They fell together with a yell.

Legolas was surprised when the tower suddenly shook, and he turned to see that a troll had come up from behind and attacked the foundations of his tower with a giant mace-ball on a chain. But what truly alarmed him was when he spotted Hannah tumbling into view down the rocky side of the great hill with Bolg. Hannah hit her head and remembered no more. While Hannah lay prone on the remains of the flat part of a stairwell, Bolg quickly righted himself and began stalking over to finish her off.  
Legolas immediately reached for another arrow and was startled when his hand snatched only air. His quiver was empty. Legolas threw down his bow and drew Orcrist, which had been gifted to him by his father. But he would never reach her in time using conventional means. Hoping the trick Hannah had used before would work for him as well, the elf-prince leapt from the tower onto the troll, stabbing the famous blade into its thick neck. Using the blade embedded in the beast's spinal chord, Legolas steered round to ram the ancient tower with enough force to break its base and send it crashing forward. The tower fell and wedged itself between the rock framing the frozen falls, and Legolas rolled off of the troll and onto the tower, taking his sword with him, as the beast plunged from the heights. With the arrival of a such a bold new challenger Bolg quickly forgot about the unconscious Hannah and jumped onto the toppled tower to engage the elven prince. Legolas met him readily.  
But fighting Orcs was not the same as fighting the giant spiders of Mirkwood, Legolas was used to fighting in the woods and unfamiliar with his present surroundings, and Bolg was an especially fierce opponent. It was a close battle, and Bolg was dangerously near to having the Elf, when another Orc suddenly fell from above and smashed a hole into the old tower, which (luckily for Legolas) grew just large enough to swallow Bolg. Legolas quickly righted himself and looked up to see that the cause had been none other than Thorin. The Dwarf had stabbed one of the Orcs attacking him in the neck and thrown it over the fall. But now Thorin was lying on his back, perched precariously on the edge, with an even nastier Orc looming over him. Legolas glanced between the endangered Dwarf and the glorious blade in his hand, and then (rather grudgingly and with no small amount of reluctance on his part) hurled the blade upwards at the menacing Orc with all his might, piercing it through the chest.  
Thorin's eyes widened in surprise. He never would have expected Orcrist to return to him in such a way.  
Unfortunately for Legolas, Bolg chose that moment to burst forth from the rubble on the inside of the tower again, returning with a vengeance. The elf-prince quickly drew his daggers to defend himself and managed to stab Bolg in the shoulder blade, but when Legolas moved to duck the Orc's next attack the stone gave way beneath his feet and he found himself falling backwards into the tower. Which was very disconcerting, but Legolas recovered quickly and dodged the bolder that was then thrown at him, running up the falling rubble like steps as the wall beneath his feet crumbled until he reached a solid foothold. Then Legolas launched himself at Bolg and threw the Orc off balance. Both opponents nearly fell from the tower again, but they quickly righted themselves and got back on their feet to attack again. Legolas thrust one of his daggers at Orc's abdomen, but Bolg stopped the blow, catching the Elf's blade with both of his hands. The Orc snarled smugly, thinking he had the elf-prince, but it was Bolg who was had. Legolas immediately released his hold on the seized dagger and flipped up onto the Orc's back to stab a second through the top of his skull. Legolas then flipped off of the Orc's shoulders and landed on solid ground just in time to avoid falling to his doom along with Bolg's corpse and the rest of the tower. The elf-prince exhaled and took a deep breath before hurrying off to recover Hannah.


	24. Chapter 24

**Previously:**

_Legolas thrust one of his daggers at Orc's abdomen, but Bolg stopped the blow, catching the Elf's blade with both of his hands. The Orc snarled smugly, thinking he had the elf-prince, but it was Bolg who was had. Legolas immediately released his hold on the seized dagger and flipped up onto the Orc's back to stab a second through the top of his skull. Legolas then flipped off of the Orc's shoulders and landed on solid ground just in time to avoid falling to his doom along with Bolg's corpse and the rest of the tower. The elf-prince exhaled and took a deep breath before hurrying off to recover Hannah._

* * *

**Chapter 24: The Return Journey**

* * *

When she opened her eyes again Hannah found Legolas staring down at her with great concern. He had been holding her and calling her name to rouse her.

"Hannah!" he called again anxiously when she did not answer right away. Dazed and disoriented, she groaned lightly against a splitting headache as she stared up into the sky. The clouds were torn by the wind, and a red sunset slashed the West. Seeing the sudden gleam in the gloom, Hannah blinked while her eyes adjusted to the light. And then she saw a sight that made her heart leap, dark shapes small yet majestic against the distant glow.

"Eagles…" she breathed.

"What?" said Legolas, staring down at her and furrowing his brow with concern.

"The Eagles!" she said louder, raising a hand to point to the sky. "The Eagles are coming!" Legolas's eyes widened in amazement when he looked up and saw that she was right. The Eagles were coming down the wind, line after line, in such a host as must have gathered from all the eyries of the North.

"The Eagles! The Eagles!" they cried together. If the Elves coming up the hill could not see them they heard them. Soon they too took up the cry, and echoed across the valley. Many wondering eyes looked up as the Eagles descended upon the battlefield and swooped down upon the legions of Orcs and Goblins and war-beasts, rending them with their claws.

When Bilbo came to himself, he was literally by himself. He was lying on the flat stones of Ravenhill, no one was near. He was shaking, and as chilled as the stone, but his head burned with fire. Bilbo blinked in confusion and was just beginning to wonder what had happened, when he saw them.

"The Eagles are coming." He said aloud, gladdened by the sight, and soon became aware that similar cries were already echoing throughout the valley. "Now I wonder what has happened?" he said to himself. "At any rate I am not yet one of the fallen heroes; but I suppose there is still time enough for that!" He sat up painfully. Looking about he spotted Thorin standing over Azog's corpse a fair distance away.  
Thorin had finally defeated his most hated foe. With labored breath the Dwarf dragged himself away to stand near the edge of the fall and look out upon the rest of the valley. With the death of their leaders and the arrival of the Eagles and Beorn, what the Orc legions had become panicked and disorganized, and they were scattering and fleeing the land in a hasty retreat. They had done it. Against all the odds, the Dwarves, Elves, and Men had achieved victory. In relief Thorin allowed himself to collapse. Bilbo, who was startled to see the Dwarf fall so suddenly, quickly scrambled up and rushed over to his side.

"Thorin!" cried the hobbit, kneeling down beside him. There indeed lay Thorin Oakenshield, wounded with many wounds, and his armor rent.

"Bilbo! Where are you?" gasped Thorin, struggling to look round for him.

"No, don't move! I am here!" Bilbo said, removing his ring in a hurry when he realized that he was still wearing it. "Don't move. Lie still. Oh!" he cried when he saw how grave one wound in particular was.

"I'm glad you are here." Said Thorin weakly. Bilbo tried to shush him, to make him preserve his energy, but Thorin would not be silenced. "I wish to part with you in friendship." He continued.

"No! You are not going anywhere, Thorin, you are going to live." Said the hobbit stubbornly. Bilbo did not want his friend to die. He couldn't bear the thought of it.

"I would take back my words and deeds at the Gate. You did what only a true friend would do. Forgive me. I was too blind to see. I am so sorry that I have led you into such peril." Said Thorin, choking in pain.

"No, I... I am glad to have shared in your perils, Thorin. Each and every one of them. It is far more than any Baggins deserves." Said Bilbo earnestly. Thorin looked at him with a smile.

"No!" said he. "There is more in you of good than you know, child of the kindly West. Some courage and some wisdom, blended in measure. Farewell, Master Burglar. Go back to your books and your armchair. Plant your trees, watch them grow. If more people valued home and food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, this world would be a merrier place. But sad or merry, I must leave it now." And with that, Thorin Oakenshield breathed his last.

"No! No, no, no, no! No! Thorin! Thorin, don't you dare..." cried Bilbo as the light in his friend's eyes faded away. "Thorin? Look, Thorin. Thorin, hold on. You hold on. You see, the Eagles... the Eagles, the Eagles are here. Thorin...the Eag..." Bilbo's voice caught in his throat, thick with grief, and whether you believe it or not, he wept until his eyes were red and his voice was hoarse. He was a kindly little soul. Indeed it was long before he had the heart to make a joke again.  
"A mercy it is," he said at last to himself, "that I woke up when I did. I wish Thorin were living, but I am glad that we parted in kindness. You are a fool, Bilbo Baggins, and you made a great mess of that business with the stone; and there was a battle, in spite of all your efforts to buy peace and quiet, but I suppose you can hardly be blamed for that."

"I know this may seem strange to you…" said Hannah, dropping to her knees beside Kili's cold body, "but he was my friend, too." She stared mournfully at the young Dwarf and reached out a hand to close his eyes. Her lower lip trembled, a tear escaped from her eyes, and Hannah soon broke down into a sobbing mess, wailing like a lost child. She didn't mean to. Hannah knew she must look a fright, but once she started she just couldn't stop. She was exhausted and tired, tired of watching people she cared about die in such painful ways. Like Bilbo, Hannah was a kindly soul, and she blamed herself for Kili's death. She felt completely useless. If only she could have reached him in time!  
Many things were on the mind of Thranduil as he followed the echoes of Hannah's cries to her and Legolas. There were many things he wanted to do and say to them. But when he saw his son standing unharmed with that concerned and disconcerted expression while he stared down at Hannah's anguished tear-stained face as she cried over the dead Dwarf, the Elvenking could only think of one.

"Legolas!" he said throwing his arms around his son, holding him in a tightly. "Your mother loved you, more than anyone, more than life. As do I." Legolas was stunned. For a moment, he was not sure how to react. It had been so long since his father last held him in such a way this that the memory had all but faded and nearly disappeared forever. But now old memories of his father holding his hand and guiding him were resurfacing. Slowly, Legolas lifted his arms, and returned his father's embrace.

"Father…" he said after a while. "I do not know what to do… She won't stop crying." Thranduil took a breath and released his son. The Elvenking turned to face the sobbing girl. He regarded her carefully for a moment, and then leaned down and gently placed a hand on her head. Hannah was so surprised that her breath caught in her throat, and she stopped hiccupping, though the tears were still flowing freely as she looked up at him.

"… I couldn't save him…" she said sadly.

"Did you try your best?" asked the Elvenking.

"O-Of course!" said Hannah.

"Then I suppose you can hardly be blamed, can you?" said Thranduil seriously. "You cannot save everyone, Hannah. He was better built for war than you, so do not insult his dignity as a warrior by pretending one small girl was the only thing standing between him and death. It just happened to be his time. If you cannot accept that, then you must carry his memory with you for the rest of your life and make it your business to live enough for him as well. That is our duty as the survivors."

"Yes… you're right…" said Hannah, sniffing, as she finally pulled herself together. "Thank you." She said with a wan but grateful smile. The Elvenking stared down at the young girl with calm eyes. Though she was still but a child, he admired her inner strength.

"Your nose is running, by the way." He said after a moment with a small frown, causing her to gasp and flinch in shock as her cheeks flushed bright red with embarrassment, and Hannah hurriedly made her business to find a handkerchief as well.

"Father!" said Legolas, appalled that Thranduil would say such a thing to an already distraught young girl. But Hannah blew her nose and laughed.

"Sorry! And, thank you, really." She said gratefully, wiping her nose clean. When Gandalf arrived and saw Kili's corpse his expression was grim, but he was delighted to see that the others were all right, especially his young apprentice.

"Hannah!" he exclaimed. "Well I never! Alive after all—I _am_ glad! I began to wonder if even your luck would see you through! A terrible business, and it nearly was disastrous. But other news can wait. Come!" he said more gravely. "Victory may be within our grasp, but there is still much to be done.

"Indeed. We must take precautions to ensure the enemy cannot regroup." Agreed Thranduil.

"Yes." Said Gandalf. "By the way have, I don't suppose any of you have seen Bilbo or Thorin?"

"Bilbo?" said Hannah. She could have kicked herself for forgetting! She tried to stand on her own, but found it difficult and winced in pain.

"Are you much hurt?" asked Gandalf with concern.

"Only a nasty knock on the head and some bruised ribs, I think." She said. "I have a hard skull, but all the same I feel sick and my legs are like straws."

"Oh, it sounds to me like you had best get yourself to a healer." Said the wizard. "Not to worry, you leave finding the others to me."

"I will carry you down to the camp in the city." Said Legolas, and picked her up lightly. "As for Thorin, I last saw him at the top of the falls. You may try there, if you wish."

At the top of the falls Gandalf found Bilbo sitting on some stone steps not very far away from Thorin's body, starring off into the distance. The hobbit's eyes were raw and he had a nasty bump on his head, but other than that he looked fairly well, all things considered. The wizard was very glad to find Bilbo alive, and very sorry about Thorin. Gandalf joined the hobbit on the steps. Bilbo looked at the wizard when he started lighting his pipe and making some noise, and Gandalf gave him a small but comforting smile. Together they sat and watched the surviving Dwarves gather round Thorin's body and kneel before him to pay their respects.

All that happened while they were stunned, he and Hannah learned later; but it gave them more sorrow than joy, and they both were now weary of their adventure. Bilbo was aching in his bones for the homeward journey. That, however, was a little delayed, so in the meantime I will tell you something of events. The Eagles had long had suspicion of the goblins' and orcs' mustering; from their watchfulness the movements in the mountains could not be altogether hid. So they too had gathered in great numbers, under the great Eagle of the Misty Mountains; and at length smelling battle afar they had come speeding down the gale in the nick of time. They it was who dislodged the goblins and orcs from the mountainslopes, casting them over precipices, or driving them down shrieking and bewildered among their foes. It was not long before they had freed Ravenhill and the Lonely Mountain, and elves and men on either side of the valley could come at last to the help of the battle below.  
But even with the Eagles they were still outnumbered. In the last hour Beorn himself had appeared—no one knew how or from where. He came alone, and in bear's shape; and he seemed to have grown almost giant-size in his wrath.  
The roar of his voice was like drums and guns; and he tossed wolves and goblins and orcs from his path like straws and feathers. He fell upon their rear, and broke like a clap of thunder through the ring where the dwarves were making a stand still about their lords upon a low rounded hill.  
Joining with them, his wrath was redoubled, so that nothing could withstand him, and no weapon seemed to bite upon him. He scattered the orcs and crushed their generals himself. Then, with the spreading of the news that Azog and Bolg had both been slain, dismay fell on the Goblins and Orcs, and they fled in all directions. But weariness left their enemies with the coming of new hope, and they pursued them closely, and prevented most of them from escaping where they could. They drove many of them into the Running River, and such as fled south or west they hunted into the marshes about the Forest River; and there the greater part of the last fugitives perished, while those that came hardly to the Wood-elves' realm were there slain or drawn in to die in the trackless dark of Mirkwood. Songs have said that three parts of the goblin and orc warriors of the North perished on that day, and the mountains had peace for many a year.  
Victory had been assured before the fall of night, but the pursuit was still on foot, when Bilbo returned to the camp; and not many were in the valley save the more grievously wounded.

"Where are the Eagles?" he asked Gandalf that evening, as he sat wrapped in warm blankets by a fire with Hannah (who was so exhausted that she had already nodded off almost as soon as she was off her feet) while they waited for the return of Thranduil and Legolas and Bard, and all those who had gone with them.

"Some are in the hunt," said the wizard, "but most have gone back to their eyries. They would not stay here and departed soon after the battle was won. Dáin has crowned their chief with gold, and sworn friendship with them for ever."

"I am sorry. I mean, I should have liked to see them again said Bilbo sleepily; "perhaps I shall see them on the way home. I suppose I shall be going home soon?"

"As soon as you like." Said the wizard.

Actually it was some days before they really set out. They buried Thorin deep beneath the Mountain, and Bard laid the Arkenstone upon his breast.

"There let it lie till the Mountain falls!" he said. "May it bring good fortune to all his folk that dwell here after!"

Upon his tomb the Elvenking then laid Orcrist, the elvish sword that had been taken from Thorin in captivity. It is said in songs that it gleamed ever in the dark if foes approached, and the fortress of the Dwarves could not be taken by surprise. There now Dáin son of Náin took up his abode, and he became King under the Mountain, and in time many other Dwarves gathered to his throne in the ancient halls. Of the twelve companions of Thorin, ten remained. As you already know, Fili and Kili had fallen in battle. The others remained with Dáin; for Dáin dealt his treasure well.  
There was, of course, no longer any question of dividing the hoard in such shares as had been planned, to Balin and Dwalin, and Dori and Nori and Ori, and Óin and Glóin, and Bifur and Bofur and Bombur—or to Bilbo. Yet a fourteenth share of all the silver and gold, wrought and unwrought, was given up to Bard; for Dáin said: "We will honor the agreement of the dead, and he now has the Arkenstone in his keeping."  
Even a fourteenth share was wealth exceedingly great, greater than that of many mortal kings. From that treasure Bard sent much gold to the Master of Laketown; and he rewarded his followers and friends freely. The gems of Lasgalen had been of the many prizes included amongst his share, and these Bard gladly returned to Thranduil, their rightful owner. To the Elvenking he also gave in friendship the emeralds of Girion, such jewels as he most loved, with which Dáin had restored to him.  
Hannah Bard also wished to thank for her bravery and aid in battle; so remembering her words at the Gate, when she said told Thorin that she would rather have a crown of flowers over one of jewels, he gave to her a very beautiful diadem of silver and gold that had been wrought in a delicate design to resemble a wreath of flowers. At first Hannah very politely refused and would take nothing, but was eventually (very kindly) forced to accept when he threatened to heap more riches upon her if she did not. And he placed it upon her brow with the blessing: "Like these flowers, may your courage and spirit never wilt."  
To Bilbo he said: "This treasure is as much yours as it is mine; though old agreements cannot stand, since so many have a claim in its winning and defense. Yet even though you were willing to lay aside your claim, I should reward you most richly of all."

"Very kind of you," said Bilbo. "But really it is a relief to me. How on earth should I have got all that treasure home without war and murder all along the way, I don't know. And I don't know what I should have done with it when I got home. I am sure it is better in your hands."

In the end he would take only two small chests, one filled with silver, and the other with gold, such as one strong pony could carry. "That will be quite as much as I can manage." said he.  
At last the time came for him to say goodbye to his friends. "Farewell, Balin!" he said; "and farewell, Dwalin; and farewell Dori, Nori, Ori, Óin, Glóin, Bifur, Bofur, and Bombur! May your beards never grow thin!" And turning towards the Mountain he added: "Farewell Thorin Oakenshield! And Fili and Kili! May your memory never fade!"

Then the Dwarves bowed low before their Gate, but words stuck in their throats. "Good-bye and good luck, wherever you fare!" said Balin at last. "If ever you visit us again, when our halls are made fair once more, then the feast shall indeed be splendid!"

"If ever you are passing my way," said Bilbo, "don't wait to knock! Tea is at four; but you are welcome any time!"  
Then he turned away.

The elf-host was on the march; and if it was sadly lessened, yet many were glad, for now the northern world would be merrier for many a long day. The dragon was dead, and the goblins and orcs overthrown, and their hearts looked forward after winter to a spring of joy.  
Beside Thranduil rode Legolas, and beside him rode Hannah. Behind them rode Gandalf and Bilbo, and beside them strode Beorn, once again in man's shape, and he laughed and sang in a loud voice upon the road. So they went on until they drew near to the borders of Mirkwood, to the north of the place where the Forest River ran out. Then they halted, for the wizard and Bilbo would not enter the wood, even though the king and prince bade them stay a while in his halls. Hannah would have liked to spend more time with the elves as a proper guest, but she was bound to go with her guardian. They intended to go along the edge of the forest, and round its northern end in the waste that lay between it and the beginning of the Grey Mountains. It was a long and cheerless road, but now that the goblins were crushed, it seemed safer to the wizard and hobbit than the dreadful pathways under the trees. Moreover Beorn was going that way too.

"Take care! My dear friend! Farewell! Your Majesty!" said Hannah to Legolas and Thranduil, gracing them with a bright and affectionate smile.

"Farewell! O Elvenking!" said Gandalf. "Merry be the greenwood, while the world is yet young! And merry be all your folk!"

"Farewell! O Gandalf! O Hannah!" said the king. "May the two of you ever appear where you are most needed and least expected!" Despite whatever he might have said before about Hannah being a bad influence on Legolas, the truth was that he was very proud of his son, and, thanks to her advice and interference, their somewhat distance relationship had begun to take a turn for the better.

"The oftener you appear in our halls the better we shall be pleased!" Legolas added warmly. He regretted their parting and hoped that he would be able to meet with his young friend again soon.

"I beg of you," said Bilbo stammering and standing on one foot, "to accept this gift!" and he brought out a necklace of silver and pearls that Dáin had given him at their parting.

"In what way have I earned such a gift, O hobbit?" said the king.

"Well, er, I thought, don't you know," said Bilbo rather confused, "that, er, some little return should be made for your, er, hospitality. I mean even a burglar has his feelings. I have drunk much of your wine and eaten much of your bread."

"I will take your gift, O Bilbo the magnificent!" said the king gravely. "And I name you elf-friend and blessed. May your shadow never grow less (or stealing would be too easy)! Farewell!"  
Then the Elves turned towards the Forest, and Bilbo started on his long road home.

He had many hardships and adventures before he got back. The Wild was still the Wild, and there many other things in it those days beside goblins and orcs; but he was well guided and well guarded—the wizard and Hannah were with him, and Beorn for much of the way—and he was never in great danger again. Anyway by mid-winter Gandalf and Bilbo and Hannah had come all the way back, along both edges of the Forest, to the doors of Beorn's house; and there for a while the three of them stayed. Yule-tide was warm and merry there; and men came from far and wide to feast at Beorn's bidding. The goblins of the Misty Mountains were now few and terrified, and hidden in the deepest holes they could find; and the Wargs had vanished from the woods, so that men went abroad without fear. Beorn indeed became a great chief afterwards in those regions and ruled a wide land between the mountains and the wood; and it is said that for many generations the men of his line had the power of taking a bear's shape, and some were grim and bad, but most were in heart like Beorn, if less in size and strength. In their day the last goblins were hunted from the Misty Mountains and a new peace came over the edge of the Wild.  
It was spring, and a fair one with mild weathers and a bright sun, before Bilbo and Hannah and Gandalf took their leave at last of Beorn, and though he longed for home, Bilbo left with regret, for the flowers of the gardens of Beorn were in springtime no less marvelous than in high summer.  
At last they came up the long road, and reached the very pass where the goblins had captured them before. But they came to that high point at morning, and looking backward they saw a white sun shining over the outstretched lands. There behind lay Mirkwood, blue in the distance, and darkly green at the nearer edge even in the spring. There far away was the Lonely Mountain on the edge of eyesight. On its highest peak snow yet unmelted was gleaming pale.

"So comes snow after fire, and even dragons have their ending!" said Bilbo, and he turned his back his adventure. The Tookish part was getting very tired, and the Baggins was daily getting stronger. "I wish now only to be in my own arm-chair!" he said.


	25. Chapter 25

**Previously:**

_It was spring, and a fair one with mild weathers and a bright sun, before Bilbo and Hannah and Gandalf took their leave at last of Beorn, and though he longed for home, Bilbo left with regret, for the flowers of the gardens of Beorn were in springtime no less marvelous than in high summer._  
_At last they came up the long road, and reached the very pass where the goblins had captured them before. But they came to that high point at morning, and looking backward they saw a white sun shining over the outstretched lands. There behind lay Mirkwood, blue in the distance, and darkly green at the nearer edge even in the spring. There far away was the Lonely Mountain on the edge of eyesight. On its highest peak snow yet unmelted was gleaming pale._

_"So comes snow after fire, and even dragons have their ending!" said Bilbo, and he turned his back his adventure. The Tookish part was getting very tired, and the Baggins was daily getting stronger. "I wish now only to be in my own arm-chair!" he said._

* * *

**Chapter 25: The Last Stage**

* * *

It was on May the First that the three came back at last to the brink of the valley of Rivendell, where stood the Last (or the First) Homely House. It was evening, their ponies were tired, especially the one that carried the baggage; and they all felt in need of rest. As they rode down the steep path, Bilbo heard the elves still singing, as if they had not stopped since he left; and as soon as their riders came down into the lower glades of wood they burst into a light song that went something like this:

_The dragon is withered,  
His bones are now crumbled;  
His armour is shivered,  
His splendour is humbled!  
Though sword shall be rusted,  
And throne and crown perish  
With strength that men trusted  
And wealth that they cherish,  
Here grass is still growing,  
And leaves are yet swinging,  
The white water flowing,  
And elves are yet singing  
Come! Tra-la-la-lally!  
Come back to the valley!_

_The stars are far brighter  
Than gems without measure,  
The moon is far whiter  
Than silver in treasure:  
The fire is more shining  
On hearth in the gloaming  
Than gold won by mining,  
So why go a-roaming?  
O! Tra-la-la-lally  
Come back to the Valley._

_O! Where are you going,  
So late in returning?  
The river is flowing,  
The stars are all burning!  
O! Whither so laden,  
So sad and so dreary?  
Here elf and elf-maiden  
Now welcome the weary  
With Tra-la-la-lally  
Come back to the Valley,  
Tra-la-la-lally  
Fa-la-la-lally  
Fa-la!_

Then the elves of the valley came out and greeted them and led them across the water to the house of Elrond, for whom Hannah had brought back a couple of jars of the exceptional honey from Beorn's hives as a gift. There a warm welcome was made them, and there were many eager ears that evening to hear the tale of their adventures. Gandalf it was who spoke, for Bilbo and Hannah had fallen quiet and drowsy. Most of the tale Bilbo knew, for he had been in it, and had himself told much of it to the wizard and Hannah on their homeward way or in the house of Beorn; but every now and again he would open one eye and listen, when a part of the story which he did not yet know came in.  
It was in this way that he learned where Gandalf had been to; for he overheard the words of the wizard to Elrond. It appeared (from the hobbit's point of view) that Gandalf had been to great council of the white wizards, masters of lore and good magic; and that they had at last driven the Necromancer from his dark hold in the south of Mirkwood. Well Bilbo had it mostly right, except of course, that the only 'white wizard' present had been Saruman, and the other members of the White Council had been none other than Lady Galadriel, Gandalf, and Lord Elrond himself. And the wizard and the elf-lord were discussing how the four members of the Council had united against their most terrible Enemy.

"Ere long now," Gandalf was saying, "The Forest will grow somewhat more wholesome. The North will be freed from that horror for many long years, I hope. Yet I wish that he were banished from the world!" Unfortunately, the best they could manage was to force Sauron to reveal himself to them too early, while he was still weak and had yet to regain his former strength, and to banish him to the South. Saruman seemed to think that was enough, but Gandalf was not so certain.

"It would be well indeed," said Elrond; "but I fear that will not come about in this age of the world, or for many after."

When the tale of their journeyings was told, there were other tales, and yet more tales, tales of long ago, and tales of new things, and tales of no time at all, till Bilbo's head fell forward on his chest, and he snored comfortably in a corner.  
He woke to find himself in a white bed, and the moon shining through an open window. Below it many elves were singing loud and clear on the banks of the stream.

_Sing all ye joyful, now sing all together!  
The wind's in the tree-top, the wind's in the heather;  
The stars are in blossom, the moon is in flower,  
And bright are the windows of Night in her tower._

_Dance all ye joyful, now dance all together!  
Soft is the grass, and let foot be like feather!  
The river is silver, the shadows are fleeting;  
Merry is May-time, and merry our meeting._

_Sing we now softly, and dreams let us weave him!  
Wind him in slumber and there let us leave him!  
The wanderer sleepeth. Now soft be his pillow!  
Lullaby! Lullaby! Alder and Willow!  
Sigh no more Pine, till the wind of the morn!  
Fall Moon! Dark be the land!  
Hush! Hush! Oak, Ash, and Thorn!  
Hushed be all water, till dawn is at hand!_

"Well, Merry People!" said Bilbo looking out. "What time by the moon is this? Your lullaby would waken a drunken goblin! Yet I thank you."

"And your snores would waken a stone dragon—yet we thank you!" they answered with laughter. They laughed all the more because they knew little Hannah had managed to sleep through it all. But the noise about her did influence the sleeping girl's dreams, and she dreamt that she was dancing in a field of flowers under the moonlight while a snoring dragon kept guard. "It is drawing towards dawn," the elves said to the hobbit, "and you have slept now since the night's beginning. Tomorrow, perhaps, you will be cured of weariness."

"A little sleep does a great cure in the house of Elrond," said he; "but I will take all the cure I can get. A second good night, fair friends!" And with that he went back to bed and slept till late morning.  
Weariness fell from him and Hannah soon in that house, and they had many a merry jest and dance, early and late, with the elves of the valley. Yet even that place could not long delay Bilbo now, and he thought always of his own home. After a week, therefore, he said farewell to Elrond, and giving him such small gifts as he would accept, he rode away with Gandalf and Hannah (who insisted upon seeing the hobbit all the way to his journey's proper end).  
Even as they left the valley the sky darkened in the West before them, and wind and rain came up to meet them.

"Merry is May-time!" said Bilbo, as the rain beat into his face. "But our back is to legends and we are coming home. I suppose this is the first taste of it."

"There is a long road yet." Said Gandalf.

"But it is the last road." Said Bilbo.

"For you, perhaps." Said Hannah with a wry smile. "Still, I hope all this rain means we can expect to see some splendid flowers blooming in the Shire!"

"Indeed you can!" said Bilbo.

They came to the river that marked the very edge of the borderland of the Wild, and to the ford beneath the steep bank, which you remember. The water was swollen both with the melting snows at the approach of summer, and with the daylong rain; but they crossed with some difficulty, and pressed forward, as evening fell, on the last stage of their journey.  
This was much as it had been before, except that the company was smaller, and more silent; also this time there were no trolls. At each point on the road Bilbo and Hannah recalled the happenings and the words of a year ago—it seemed more like ten—so that, of course, they quickly noted the place where the pony had fallen in the river, and they had turned aside for their nasty adventure with Tom and Bert and Bill.  
Not far from the road they found the gold of the trolls, which they had buried, still hidden and untouched.

"I have enough to last me my time." Said Bilbo, when they had dug it up. "You and Hannah had better take this, Gandalf. I daresay the two of you can find a use for it."

"Indeed we can!" said the wizard. "But share and share alike! You may find you have more needs than you expect."

With this Hannah agreed, for she knew one certainty in life was that unexpected things were bound to happen to anyone and often when one was least prepared for them. So they put the gold in bags and slung them on the ponies, who were not at all pleased about it. After that their going was slower, for most of the time they walked. But the land was green and there was much grass through which the hobbit strolled along contentedly. He mopped his face with a red silk handkerchief—no! not a single one of the ones Hannah lent to him had survived (which he felt awful about, but Hannah was very understanding about it, as none the ones she kept had survived either), he had borrowed this one from Elrond—for now June had brought summer, and the weather was bright and hot again.  
As all things come to and end, even this story, a day came at last when they were in sight of the country where Bilbo had been born and bred, where the shapes of the land and of the trees were as well known to him as his own hands and toes. Coming to a rise he could see his own Hill in the distance, and he stopped suddenly and said:

_Roads go ever ever on,  
Over rock and under tree,  
By caves where never sun has shone,  
By streams that never find the sea;  
Over snow by winter sown,  
And through the merry flowers of June,  
Over grass and over stone,  
And under mountains of the moon._

_Roads go ever ever on_  
_Under cloud and under star,_  
_Yet feet that wandering have gone_  
_Turn at last to home afar._  
_Eyes that fire and sword have seen_  
_And horror in the halls of stone_  
_Look at last on meadows green_  
_And trees and hills they long have known._

Gandalf and Hannah looked at him. "My dear Bilbo!" the wizard said. "Something is the matter with you! You are not the hobbit that you were."  
And so they crossed the bridge and passed the mill by the river and came right back to Bilbo's own door.

"Bless me! What's going on?" he cried.

There was a great commotion, and people of all sorts, respectable and unrespectable, were thick round the door, and many were going in and out—not even wiping their feet on the mat, as Bilbo noticed with annoyance.  
If he was surprised, they were more surprised still. He had arrived back in the middle of an auction! There was a large notice in black and red hung on the gate, stating that on June the Twenty-second Messrs. Grubb, Grubb, and Burrowes would sell by auction the effects of the late Bilbo Baggins Esquire, of Bag-End, Underhill, Hobbiton. Sale to commence at ten o'clock sharp. It was now nearly lunchtime, and most of the things had already been sold, for various prices from next to nothing to old songs (as is not unusual at auctions, Gandalf had explained to Hannah). Bilbo's cousins the Sackville-Bagginses were, in fact, busy measuring his rooms to see if their own furniture would fit. In short Bilbo was 'Presumed Dead', and not everybody that said so was sorry to find the presumption wrong.  
The return of Mr. Bilbo Baggins created quite a disturbance, both under the Hill and over the Hill, and across the Water; it was a great deal more than nine days' wonder. The legal bother, indeed, lasted for years. It was quite a long time before Mr. Baggins was in fact admitted to be alive again. The people who had got specially good bargains at the Sale took a deal of convincing; and in the end to save time Bilbo had to buy back quite a lot of his own furniture. Many of his silver spoons mysteriously disappeared and were never accounted for. Personally, he suspected the Sackville-Bagginses. On their side they never admitted that the returned Baggins was genuine, and they were not on friendly terms with Bilbo ever after. They really had wanted to live in his nice hobbit-hole so very much.  
Indeed Bilbo found he had lost more than spoons—he had lost his reputation. It is true that for ever after he remained an elf-friend, and had the honor of dwarves, wizards, and all such folk as ever passed that way; but he was no longer quite respectable. He was in fact held by all the hobbits of the neighborhood to be 'queer'—except by his nephews and nieces on the Took side, but even they were not encouraged in their friendship by their elders.  
I am sorry to say he did not mind. He was quite content; and the sound of the kettle on his hearth was ever more musical than it had been even in the quiet days before the Unexpected Party. His sword he hung over the mantelpiece. His coat of mail was arranged on a stand in the hall (until he lent it to a Museum). His gold and silver was largely spent in presents, both useful and extravagant—which to a certain extent accounts for the affection of his nephews and nieces. His magic ring he kept a great secret, for he chiefly used it when unpleasant callers came.  
He took to writing poetry and visiting the elves and Hannah (who would sometimes come to visit him for tea in the Shire); and though many shook their heads and touched their foreheads and said "Poor old Baggins!" and though few believed any of his tales, he remained happy to the end of his days, and those were extraordinarily long.

One autumn evening some years afterwards Bilbo was sitting in his study writing his memoirs—he thought of calling them 'There and Back Again, a Hobbit's Holiday'—when there was a ring at the door. It was Gandalf and a dwarf; and the dwarf was actually Balin.

"Come in! Come in!" said Bilbo, and soon they were settled in chairs by the fire. If Balin noticed that Mr. Baggins' waistcoat was more extensive (and had real gold buttons), Bilbo also noticed that Balin's beard was several inches longer, and his jeweled belt was of great magnificence.  
They fell to talking of their times together, of course, and Bilbo asked how things were going in the lands of the Mountain. It seemed things were going very well. Bard had rebuilt the town of Dale and men had gathered to him from the Lake and from South and West, and all the valley had become tilled again and rich, and the desolation was now filled with birds and blossoms in spring and fruit and feasting in autumn. And Laketown was refounded and was more prosperous than ever, and much wealth went up and down the Running River; and there was friendship in those parts between elves and dwarves and men.  
The old Master had come to a bad end. Bard had given him much gold for the help of the Lake-people, but being of the kind that easily catches such disease, he fell under the dragon-sickness, and took most of the gold and fled with it, and died of starvation in the Waste, deserted by his companions.

"The new Master is of wiser kind," said Balin, "and very popular, for, of course, he gets most of the credit for the present prosperity. They are making songs which say that in his day the rivers run with gold."

"Then the old prophecies of the old songs have turned out to be true, after a fashion!" said Bilbo.

"Of course!" said Gandalf. "And why shouldn't they prove true? Surely you don't disbelieve the prophecies, because you had a hand in bringing them about yourself? You don't really suppose, do you, that all your adventures and escapes were managed by mere luck, just for your sole benefit? You are a very fine person, Mr. Baggins, and I am very fond of you; but you are only quite a little fellow in a wide world after all!"

"Thank goodness!" said Bilbo laughing, and handed him the tobacco-jar. "Now, what about Hannah? What has she been up to these days?" he asked, for it been quite some time since her last visit.

As for Hannah, he learned that she had come to settle in Mirkwood, and was very happy there, with the occasional visit to the Mountain and Laketown. Indeed Balin seemed to think a portion of the Elvenking's continued goodwill towards the dwarves was influenced by her friendship with them, for she often served as a mediator for trade and other agreements made between the two realms, and she seemed to have become very dear to him. Bilbo was very proud to hear how the little girl he met so long ago had grown, and was glad to hear that she was doing so well.

When it came time for his guests to leave, Bilbo bid them farewell with one of his favorite partings that Hannah had passed on to him:

_May the road rise up to meet you.  
May the wind be always at your back.  
May the sun shine warm upon your face,  
And the rains fall soft upon your fields.  
And until we meet again  
May God hold you in the palm of his hand._

And so ends the account of Bilbo's return to Bag-End and Hannah's first major adventure in Middle Earth. But as they say every ending is the start of a new beginning, and now we can begin the story of Hannah and King Thranduil and the events that led the two of them together.


End file.
